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EDGEIVIOl^E SEt^IES. 


Vol. I— No. 1. Bi-Monthly. APRIL, lS95i. ' Subscription $2.50 a Year. 

Entered at tlie Post Office at Washington, D. C., as Second Class Mail Matter. 


A True 

* 

ht. 


* BY 

k. D. HALL and ROBERT L. DOWNING. 





WASHINGTON, D. C. : 

EDGEMORE PUBLISHING COMPANY. 









V •./•;; -i... ; • ' ,, s:’ 

« I • « • » 


• *' 

. ■ S-. 


' ’ \ 

> ' 




A TRUE KNIGHT 


. 1 * 




'■ , V, ^ 
-’ V ‘ . r. 






: J,'vJ'y:r .1- '■■ - 



A TKUE KNIGHT 


/ 

^ALL 



EGBERT L. DOWNmG. 



WASHINGTON, D. C.: 
EDGBMORE PUBLISHING CO. 


im. 


Copyright, 1892, 

By ROBERT L. DOWNING, 

•ALL BIGHTS BESRRVED. 



Knig^bt, Leonard & Co., Electrotypers, Chicago. 


TO MY BROTHERS, 

. THE KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS OF THE WORLD, 


WHOSE MOTTO IS 


. FRIENDSHIP, CHARITY AND BENEVOLENCE, 


AND WHOSE UNSELFISH ACTS AND BROTHERLY LOVE 
OF TO-DAY ARE UNSURPASSED IN THE ANNALS 
OF PAST AGES, THIS BOOK IS MOST 
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 


Bennings, D. C., 
March, 1892. 


Fraternally yours, 

In P., C. & B. & H. & P., 

ROB’T L. DOWNING. 


“ Damon and Pythias : 

A rare ensample of friendship true, it is no legend lie, 
But a thynge once done indeede, as hystories doo discrie.” 

“ True frieiides are constant both in word and deede, 

True friendes are present, and helpe at each neede ; 

True friendes talke truely, they glose for no gayne. 

When treasure consuraeth, true friendes wyll remayne.” 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter. Page. 

I. The Revolt of the Slaves 9 

II. Brothers in Heart 28 

III. The Conspirators’ Feast 54 

IV. Eros and Anteros 76 

V. Palmam, Qui Meruit, Ferat 93 

VI. Damon to the Rescue 114 

VII. The Beginning of the End 135 

VIII. All Lost Save Honor 150 

IX. Doomed 164 

X. A Living Pledge 180 

XI. Calanthe 190 

XII. Loyal Unto Death 209 

XIII. Temptation 226 

XIV. Desperation 236 

XV. By the King’s Command 241 



A TRUE KNIGHT. 


CHAPTER 1. 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 


YRACUSE, the Golden ! Syracuse at the 



o height of her pomp and power, when, Ath- 
ens excepted, she stood without a rival among 
the Hellene cities. Syracuse, the queen flower 
of the blooming fragrance of luxuriant Sicily, 
a land so favored that it might well have been 
called the “ Garden of the Gods.’^ Syracuse, 
with its treasures of art, its spacious harbors, 
its sunny squares, its crowded marts, its superb 
buildings, its noble statues and monuments, 
and its broad streets thronged with a motley, 
picturesque crowd of nobles, senators, patri- 
cian ladies, slaves, mountebanks, priests, beg- 
gars and courtesans. 

Such is the scene of our story, where, more 
than a score of centuries ago, our characters 
lived and loved, triumphed and failed. 

More than a score of centuries ago ! That 
the times change and we change in them is 


10 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


true in all respects save one : The human na- 
ture, or, perhaps better, the divine nature, 
which is in us children of earth, has been, is, 
and will ever remain essentially the same in 
all ages and climes. 

In spite of the glorious achievements of 
Syracuse in war, and her no less glorious ac- 
complishments in the gentle arts of peace, the 
brightest leaf in her wreath of laurels is the 
fact that she was the nurse of that celebrated 
pair of devoted Pythagoreans, Damon and 
Pythias, whose friendship has been a shining 
example during all the succeeding centuries, 
an example which, in spite of the pessimists, 
can be found duplicated again and again in 
these so-called degenerate modern times. The 
age of chivalry is not dead, and there exists 
many an instance of disinterested friendship, 
of noble self-sacrifice, of enduring one for 
another, which, if not so brilliant, so heralded 
to the world, as in the case of the famous 
Sicilian friends, is quite as sublime, as pure, as 
true, and as worthy to be enrolled in the an- 
nals of Clio. 

But the stage is set and the actors are at 
hand; so let the curtain rise. Nunc^ spectatoreSy 
plaudite manibiis dare. 

The day was fading. The golden disk of 
the sun seemed to balance itself above the 
distant hills ; the gilded roof of the temple of 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 


11 


Zeus Olympios- flashed back, as in farewell, an 
answering brilliancy, and the trembling waters 
of the bay blushed beneath the kisses of the 
retreating god of day. 

It was the hour of the evening meal, and 
all was quiet in the streets and squares of the 
quarter called Neapolis, or the New City, 
which was the aristocratic portion of the town. 
For, although in name a republic, Syracuse 
boasted as proud and wealthy an aristocracy 
as ever did imperial Rome herself. Stretching 
along the southern slope of the heights of 
Achradina, and overlooking the Great Har- 
bour and the emerald marshes of the Ana- 
pus, Neapolis was unquestionably the flnest 
site in the city. Here were situated the mag- 
niflcent residences of the leading patrician 
families, numerous temples and the newly 
flnished amphitheatre, which was destined to 
become one of the most famous in the world. 

In the Square of Apollo, just opposite the 
Gates of Night, was the gleaming marble 
palace of Dionysius, who, in spite of his 
youth (he was then only twenty-eight), was 
the foremost of the Syracusan generals and 
was rapidly attracting attention, which was 
not wholly unmingled with a vague fear, by 
the power and daring of his speeches in the 
senate. 

As in a burst of gold and crimson splendour, 
the sun sank behind the hills, a small door in 


12 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


the high wall, which enclosed the gardens of 
the palace, was cautiously opened, and the 
figure of a girl appeared. She was evidently 
very young, not more than sixteen, and her 
slender figure was enveloped in a long mantle 
of sombre hue. Beneath the tangled masses 
of her dark hair, her sweet young face was 
fair as a fiower in its purity and innocence; 
but her expression, as she closed the door 
behind her and stepped out into the square, 
was one of the keenest anxiety, amounting 
almost to positive terror. She gave a quick 
glance about her, as if expecting to meet some 
one, but, save for two gigantic Nubian slaves 
staggering along beneath their loads of fruit, the 
entire place was deserted. With a long, trem- 
bling sigh of disappointment, she shrank be- 
neath the friendly shade of an olive-tree, and 
with strained eyes and tightly clenched hands, 
stood motionless, evidently waiting for the 
person she had hoped to find outside the wall. 

She had not long to wait, however, for in a 
very few minutes there came bounding from 
an alley, almost exactly opposite, a tall, lithe 
young fellow, supple and graceful as a grey- 
hound, but with muscles like steel. As he 
sped across the square, he reminded one of 
nothing so much as a thoroughbred, perfectly- 
trained racehorse. 

When he reached the little door in the wall 
of Dionysius’ garden, he paused in doubt and 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 


13 


surprise, and then catching sight of the 
shrinking figure of the girl, he darted toward 
her, and in another moment held her close 
folded in his arms. 

Oh, Lucullus ! Lucullus ! ” gasped the 
girl, struggling in his embrace. 

He released her, and looked down upon her 
with a smile. His was not a handsome face, 
but there was an expression of rugged honesty 
on his swarthy, irregular features, and in his 
dark eyes, his only beauty, shone the light of 
honesty and loyalty. 

Do not tremble, my little one,’’ he said, 
soothingly; “ your pardon if I was rough with 
you. But when a man has hungered long, he 
is apt to be ravenous when the feast is spread 
before his eyes.” 

It is wrong, Lucullus,” she murmured. 

I should not meet you like this, but — ” 

But you love me ? ” 

Her only answer was a vivid blush, but he 
was satisfied. 

Why wrong. Daphne ? ” he continued. 

We are slaves, true, and cannot marry with- 
out our master’s consent; but we are both 
young, and who knows what time may bring 
forth ? Damon, my master, is goodness itself^ 
and high in the councils of the State. An ap- 
peal to him may work marvels.” 

'' But he is not the only one; Lucullus.” 

The youth’s face grew a shade sombre. 


14 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


No, true. There is your master to be 
considered, too.” • 

Ah, my lord is not unkind, but my 
lady—” 

Does she abuse you, little one ? ” 

No, not that, exactly, but she is cold 
and proud. And many a time I have heard 
her say that slaves should not marry.” 

“ Slaves ! ” cried Lucullus, vehemently. 
'‘Ay, slaves that we are ! Ah ! were I free, my 
Daphne, you should soon be mine. Look 
yonder,” pointing to where the roof of the 
new amphitheatre appeared above the trees, 
“ for a freeman there are fame and fortune 
there. There is none in Syracuse who can 
outrun me and few outwrestle.” 

“ But, Lucullus, I have heard my lord say 
a slave may enter the lists.” 

“ A slave may enter the lists ! ” he retorted 
bitterly. “ True, but his master receives the 
prizes. Not even the laurel wreath may be- 
long to the real victor. Slaves ! Why are we 
slaves? We should rise in our might, and — ” 

But the girl’s little hand was over his 
mouth, and she was gazing up at him in an 
agony of frenzied entreaty. 

“ Hush ! hush ! Lucullus ! I had forgotten ! 
I had forgotten ! And there is no time to be 
lost) no time to be lost.” 

“AVhy, Daphne, my child, what do you 
mean ? ” he asked, in utter amazement. 


THE EEVOLT OP THE SLAVES. 15 

She gave a quick glance about her, as if fear- 
ful of being overhead, and then grasping his 
arm, she said in low, hurried tones : 

I scarcely know myself, but something 
terrible is about to happen. Oh, may the 

f ods aid me ! Tell me, Lucullus, did not the 
enate elect a president to-day? 

Yes,^' was the gloomy reply. ‘^Marcus ! 
May the curses of — 

Oh ! Be still ! Be still ! And listen to 
me, Lucullus, I implore you, listen to 
me ! This morning as I was gathering flow- 
ers for my mistress, I heard the sound of 
voices just on the other side of the hedge. I 
know not what impelled me to do so, but I 
stopped and listened. One of the speakers 
was my brother, Placidus. The other two I 
did not know, but they were slaves like him. 
My ears are keen, and, although their voices 
were low and guarded, I gathered the sense 
of what they said. Should Marcus be elected 
president, they were to attack him to-night in 
this very square on his way to the house of 
Philistius, and — and murder him, Lucullus ! 

Lucullus started, and a strange light shone 
in his dark eyes. 

Well,” he replied, fiercely, ^‘so much the 
better. The cur is unfit to live, and those 
brave men will die in a good cause.” 

Die ! ” moaned Daphne, white with terror. 
Can slaves live after raising a hand against 
a senator?” 


/ 


16 A TRUE KNIGHT. 

But, Lucullus, it must not be ; it shall not 
be ! My brother ! my brother ! 

“ My poor girl, I had forgotten,’^ he said, 
tenderly putting his arm about her. 

She clung to him desperately, and in an 
agony of fear and horror besought him to 
prevent the deed, to leave no stone unturned 
to save Placidus. 

Lucullus was far beyond his class both in 
intelligence and education. The favorite 
slave of Damon, the Pythagorean, he had 
been brought up as a son of the family rather 
than as a bondman. From constant inter- 
course with his master he was more or less 
versed in statecraft. He knew that there had 
been a struggle in the Senate that day over 
the election of president. Marcus, the suc- 
cessful candidate, who had been opposed by 
Damon and others, was little more than a 
creature of Dionysius. As it is very rare that 
those whose condition it is to obe}^ do not 
show themselves arrogant to those who hap- 
pen to fall within their power, so Marcus, a 
tool of his superior, lost no opportunity to op- 
press the slaves. Certain laws which bore 
heavily upon the slave class were due, in a 
large measure, to him, and in consequence he 
was bitterly hated by the bondmen. Lucullus 
was therefore not surprised to hear Daphne^s 
story of the plot against the senator's life, and 
in his inmost heart he sympathized with the 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 17 

conspirators. Still, he could not but realize 
that, by taking their enemy’s life, they had 
everything to lose and but little to gain. The 
overturning of a statue of a tyrant frequently 
is but the signal for the erection of the statue 
of another, and perhaps worse, tyrant upon 
the same pedestal. 

Moreover, Lucullus loved the little girl by 
his side with all the strength of his honest 
heart, and would gladly have given up his 
life to save her one tear. But what could he 
do ? To appeal to Placidus and his compan- 
ions would, he knew, be worse than folly. 
Damon ? Yes, Damon, who was beloved by 
the lower classes for his unfailing kindness 
and generosity toward them, might effect 
much, but Damon had that very afternoon 
left the city to be absent two days. What 
could he do? Immediate action was neces- 
sary. Ah ! Pythias ! Yes, Pythias, the bosom 
friend of his master, was his one hope. There 
was no time to be lost, but, with his fleetness 
of foot, he might be able to reach Pythias and 
warn him before it was too late. 

With a few words of encouragement to his 
sweetheart, and a last embrace, the young 
slave bounded lightly away and was soon 
lost to sight. 

Daphne, somewhat relieved, hurried back to 
her mistress. 

Night was rapidly descending. One by one 


18 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


the stars came out, and the moon grew more 
and more silvery against the increasing black- 
ness of the sky. The square was peaceful and 
deserted. 

No, not deserted. For, suddenly, from one 
of the side streets appeared two men, who were 
quickly joined by another, then another, then 
another, until fully fifteen were gathered to- 
gether in the shadow of one of the palaces. On 
each face was a look of grim determination, and 
the firm grasp upon the knives and clubs with 
which they were armed showed that they 
were men who were not to be trifled with. 

There was a hurried Consultation, a few 
words of last instruction to each from the one 
who appeared to be the leader, and then they 
separated into little groups, which seemed to 
melt away as they disappeared behind walls 
and within the dark shadows of the alleys. 

Suddenly lights flashed forth at one end of 
the square, and two slaves appeared, carrying 
flaming torches, and followed by a closed litter 
conveyed by four bearers. Behind came two 
other slaves with torches. It was the newly- 
elected president of the Senate, flushed with 
his triumph, on the way to sup with the rich 
patrician, Philistius. 

Totally unsuspicious of danger, the little 
procession swept on until it was nearly oppo- 
site Dionysius’ palace, when, suddenly, the 
foremost torches were dashed to the ground. 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 


19 


In another moment the slaves of the president 
were overpowered. Was it an effect of the 
darkness, or did they offer but slight resist- 
ance? At all events, a few hurried words 
from the leader of the attacking party seemed 
to have a. marvellous effect upon them, for 
they remained quietly in the hands of their 
captors. 

Surprised at the stopping of the litter, Mar- 
cus threw back the curtains, and was about 
angrily to demand the reason, when his eyes 
fell upon the band surrounding him and 
caught the gleam of steel. Alighting as rap- 
idly as his obese person would permit, he 
stood in their midst, white as death and trem- 
bling like one suddenly stricken with the 
palsy. Overbearing when in safety, he was, 
like all bullies, an arrant coward when real 
danger was to be faced. 

With a desperate effort at self-control, he 
demanded, in a voice which in spite of him- 
self shook with fear, the reason of the out- 
ra^. 

rlacidus stepped from the ranks of his 
comrades, and with calm, collected bearing, 
faced the man who felt instinctively that his 
doom was near at hand. 

How dare you treat me in this manner? ” 
asked Marcus, with a pitiable assumption of 
bravado. 

“ Dare ! '' laughed Placidus, contemptuously. 


20 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


“ There is at this moment no question of dar- 
ing between us and you. We are no longer 
your dogs, my master, to lick your feet, but 
men to avenge our wrongs.’^ 

“ What would you do ? 

^‘Kill you, and send you to Tartarus to 
expiate there the sulferings you have caused 
here.'’ 

Paralyzed with terror, his little eyes bulging 
out of his head, and his heavy underlip pend- 
ulous and nerveless, Marcus stretched out his 
shaking hands in an agony of appeal. He 
tried to speak, to implore for mercy, but no 
words issued from his mouth. 

But there was no relenting in Placidus’ stern 
face. If the deed were to be done, it must be 
done quickly. At any moment the neigh- 
borhood might be aroused. 

Seizing the abject wretch by the throat and 
stifling his screams, he raised his knife to 
strike, but before the blow could descend, his 
arm was seized in a grasp of steel and he him- 
self hurled violently backward. 

His neck released from the awful pressure, 
Marcus fell headlong to the ground, an inert 
mass of quivering flesh. 

In front of his prostrate body, defending 
the intended victim from his would-be execu- 
tioners, towered the superb figure of a young 
man in the garb of a soldier. Beneath his 
short cloak of crimson, gleamed the links of 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 21 

his steel cuirass. His head was bare, and the 
heavy masses of his hair were thrown back 
from his white forehead. His dark eyes 
gleamed and glowed like coals of fire beneath 
the level brows, and his chiseled lips were set 
with firm determination. In one hand he 
held a short, two-edged sword, and the other 
was stretched out in a gesture of command. 
Handsome as Apollo, muscular as Hercules, 
he looked, in the soft moonlight, like the 
statue of a young demi-god starting into life. 

Back ! he cried, in low, tense tones that 
were like the cuts of a rapier. ‘‘ Fools, what 
would you do ? Back, I say ! ’’ 

Involuntarily the slaves shrank away. 
Placidus alone remained a little to the front 
facing the new-comer. 

Placidus, resumed the young man, lower- 
ing his sword a little, Placidus, you know 
me. Tell me what this outbreak means. 

Fpr a moment there was no reply, and then 
the slave responded sullenly : 

'^Yes, my lord, I know you. You are 
Pythias, the friend of Damon.” 

Pythias upreared his handsome head and 
drew his figure up to his full height, as if this 
title, “ the friend of Damon,” gave him just 
cause for pride. 

'' Yes,’’ he answered, '' the friend of Damon, 
and for that reason, if for no other, with a 
claim upon your consideration, if not your 


22 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


obedience. Tell me, I repeat, the meaning of 
this outbreak. 

Meanwhile, Marcus had dragged himself to 
his feet, and was supporting his heavy, sway- 
ing form against one of the stanchions of the 
litter. As Placidus observed this he muttered 
an oath and made a movement as if he would 
rush upon him, but the gleaming steel of the 
young soldier’s sword kept him in check. 

‘‘ Answer me,” insisted Pythias. I com- 
mand it.” 

The reply was respectful, if gruff. 

My lord, you know this man, the perse- 
cutor of our class. He dead, we have nothing 
to fear.” 

“ Nothing to fear ! Are you mad ? You 
have everything to fear. Will not his death 
be avenged not only upon you, but upon all 
slaves as well ? Instead of bettering the con- 
dition of your class, you would be bringing 
upon it untold evils. Listen to me, Placidus — 
I address you as apparently the leader of these 
misguided men. That you have wrongs, I 
know and others know. Leave it to those 
who have your interests at heart and the 
power to aid you permanently — leave it to 
those, I say, to right your wrongs. You can 
accomplish naught by murder.” 

Placidus started as if stung by an adder. 

“ Murder ! ” he cried, passionately. '' No, 
my lord, not so. Not murder ! Vengeance ! ” 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 23 

“ Is it not murder to attack a defenseless 
man?’’ retorted Pythias, sternly. “Once 
more, leave it to those who have the power 
to avenge you. Disperse and abandon your 
bloody intentions. I ask it in the name of 
Damon, your friend and champion.” 

Placidus stood irresolute, which Pythias, 
observing, hastened to add : 

“ Disperse, I say, or you will reach your 
victim only over my dead body.” 

The slave glanced at his followers, who 
stood mute and abashed. It is difficult, well 
nigh impossible, for those born in bondage to 
cast off their chains, and the sudden appear- 
ance among them of a resolute member of 
the ruling caste had been sufficient to cow 
them. Moreover, Placidus had been the head 
and front of the undertaking, and the rest 
merely his servile tools. 

Either realizing that he had nothing to ex- 
pect from his followers, or recognizing that 
the words of Pythias were just, Placidus con- 
cluded to abandon his design. 

“ My lord,” he said, hesitatingly, “ I will 
obey your wishes.” 

“You will not regret it,” said Pythias, 
briefly, as he sheathed his sword. 

The foiled conspirators shuffled uneasily 
away, and, when they had disappeared, Pyth- 
ias turned his attention to the demoralized 
Marcus. 


24 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


He was still clutching the litter, but now 
that the danger was apparently over, the color 
was gradually returning to his flabby cheeks, 
and his legs no longer refused to support him. 
Pythias smiled bitterly as he reflected that this 
poor, cowardly creature had that day been 
elected as the head of the governing body of 
a great city, and there was a decided ring of 
contempt in his voice as he addressed him. 

''You are safe now, my lord, and may pro- 
ceed.’’ 

The torches were now relighted, and the 
litter-bearers were at their posts. 

The president turned his little beady, flesh- 
imbedded eyes upon his preserver, and with 
a desperate effort at dignity, said : 

" I thank you for your timely interference, 
but the gods send a preserver when the State 
is in danger.” 

It was with difficulty that Pythias could 
repress a smile, but he answered courteously 
enough : " I am gratifled to have been able 
to render you so slight a service.” 

Marcus gave him a quick look, as if suspect- 
ing some hidden sarcasm, but the counte- 
nance of the young soldier was imperturb- 
able. 

"Curse their vile carcasses,” exclaimed the 
great man, viciously, shaking his flst in the 
direction where the rebellious slaves had dis- 
appeared. " But let them beware ! Placidus ! 


THE REVOLT OF THE SLAVES. 25 

I shall remember both name and face, and my 
vengeance shall be swift and sure.’' 

He turned and was about to enter his litter, 
but the hand of Pythias, laid heavily on his 
shoulder, prevented him carrying out his de- 
sign. He paused in surprise, and irritably 
demanded the reason of his further detention. 

Pardon me, my lord, but your vengeance 
on those poor misguided men must be fore- 
gone.” 

Marcus stared as if he could scarcely credit 
his ears. 

‘‘And why, may I ask?” he demanded, 
haughtily. 

“ Because I have given my word that they 
should have no cause to regret their action.” 

“That is no affair of mine. They have 
dared to attack me, the head of the State, and 
the scum shall suffer.” 

“ I again crave your pardon, but it must 
not be.” 

“ No more of this useless bickering. I deny 
your right to interfere.” 

“As you please, my lord, but if aught of 
harm comes to Placidus or his companions it 
will be my painful duty to inform certain of 
the senators of the plight in which I found 
their honored president. It will be scarcely 
pleasant for you to know that you are looked 
upon as a — perhaps the word had best be 
left unsaid.” 


26 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


With a snarl, like a wild beast caught in a 
trap, Marcus flashed a malignant glance into 
the calm face of the young man. He had 
strong reasons of his own, which will appear 
hereafter, for bearing no love to Pythias, and 
the scenes of this evening were not likely to 
mitigate this dislike. Only a noble soul is 
capable of feeling gratitude ; with the meaner 
spirits, a service rendered is apt to inspire 
something not far removed from hatred. Mar- 
cus realized that he was overmatched, and 
would be forced to yield. 

Say no more,’' he said, loftily. “ Under 
the gods, you have been the instrument of 
doing me a slight favor. In return, I feel it 
but fitting to grant your request. The rogues 
shall not be molested.” 

I thank you, most noble Marcus. I felt 
sure that you would see the justice of my posi- 
tion.” 

'' But,” interposed Marcus, as if struck with 
a sudden thought, ‘^what warranty have I 
that they will not attack me again ? ” And his 
voice trembled at the bare idea. 

I pledge you my word, such a thing shall 
not occur.” 

I shall hold you to that.” 

Pythias was by this time too thoroughly 
disgusted with the craven to longer withold 
expression of his disdain, and it was with an 
accent that could not be mistaken that he 
replied : 


I'HE REVOLT OE THE SLAVES. 27 

You may lay aside all — fear.’' 

Without a word further, Marcus shuffled his 
unwieldy body into the litter, and closed the 
curtains with a vicious jerk. 

With a sigh, Pythias turned and walked 
slowly away, his heart heavy at the thought 
that the interests of his beloved country were 
confided to such incompetent and corrupt 
hands as these. It would have been heavier 
still could he have known what was to be the 
outcome of this night’s adventure. 


CHAPTER II. 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 

F ar up on the heights above Neapolis, 
overlooking the entire city, the two har- 
bors with their maze of shipping, and beyond 
the blue waters of the Mediterranean, rose 
the white walls of a villa, the home of Damon, 
senator and philosopher. It was a long, low 
rambling structure, with a broad portico, sup- 
ported by slender fluted columns of marble. 
In front stretched a carpet of green turf, be- 
sprinkled with flowers, white, blue and yellow, 
and behind rose a grove of olives with their 
silvery leaves and emerald fruit. An ideal 
home, and a haven of rest to Damon when 
worn out with the strifes and dissensions of 
the senate-house. 

Damon was the only child of wealthy 
patrician parents, whose idol he was, and who 
had spared no expense upon his education. 
His youth was spent in Athens, where at the 
gymnasium of that unparalleled city he re- 
ceived all the advantages that the times af- 


BROTHEES IN HEART. 


29 


forded. It was here that he met Pythias, a 
young Greek, several years his junior. De- 
spite the difference in their ages, and an even 
greater difference in temperament, a warm 
friendship sprang up between the two young 
men. Damon Avas as calm and collected as 
Pythias was fiery and impulsive, but a sturdy 
loyalty, an unswerving honesty was charac- 
teristic of both. There are friends as well as 
birds of passage, and the greatest number of 
them come to us in sunny weather and depart 
when clouds arise. But the attachment of the 
two young students was not of this nature. It 
was founded upon mutual respect, and that 
strange personal attraction for which a name 
has not yet been found, and it was destined to 
last as long as life itself ; a friendship which 
had but little need of profession, but which 
was capable of enduring all. 

While at Athens, Damon was brought into 
close contact with certain Pythagorean phil- 
osophers, and he drank in with avidity the 
teachings of the great founder of the Italic 
School of Philosophy. It was but natural 
that such a nature as Damon^s should be 
strongly attracted by the principles set forth 
by Pythagoras, being, as they were, of the 
purest and most spiritual kind. Virtue was 
regarded as a harmony of the soul, a conform^ 
ity with or approximation to Deity. Purity 
of Heart, Truth and Self-Control were es- 


30 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


pecially insisted upon ; and Uprightness and 
Conscientiousness in all affairs of life were 
rigidly upheld. It was not long before Da- 
mon became a disciple of the system, and 
through his influence, Pythias likewise joined 
the Pythagoreans. 

His course at the gymnasium flnished, Da- 
mon returned to Syracuse. A few months 
later, his father and mother died, carried off 
by an epidemic which was short-lived but ter- 
rible in its ravages. 

His own master, and possessed of an ample 
fortune, the young philosopher embraced a 
political life. He found no difficulty in being 
admitted to the Senate, and he devoted all his 
energies to the eradication of existing abuses. 
Among the purer and better class of Syracu- 
sans he was held in the highest esteem, but 
by the demagogues and seekers for personal 
advancement, who were in the vast majority, 
he was both hated and feared. The fact that 
he was a Pythagorean was also a stumbling- 
block in his career. That particular system 
of philosophy had at that time but few fol- 
lowers in Syracuse. What was done and 
taught among the members of the fraternity 
was kept a profound secret from the outer 
world, and, as in all such cases, there was no 
lack of falsifiers to make current the most 
absurd rumors. Ignorance, always timorous 
and suspicious, is ever ready to condemn what 
it is incapable of Understanding. 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


31 


Pythias had meanwhile remained in Athens, 
but absence, instead of weakening, had only 
strengthened the attachment existing between 
the two friends. Unlike Damon, Pythias had 
but very slender means, and after leaving 
the gymnasium he determined to go to Syra- 
cuse to seek his fortune, and to be near the 
man who was dearer to him than any brother 
in blood could have been. 

Through Damon’s influence he obtained a 
position in the Sicilian army, and the short, 
but fierce, war with the Carthaginians, in 
in which Dionysius, as commanding general, 
was brilliantly successful, afforded him the 
opportunity to rise rapidly in his profession. 

Damon’s marriage, which had taken place 
some three years before the opening of our 
story, had in no wise altered the relations ex- 
isting between the two friends. His wife, 
Hermione, the daughter of a noble Catanian 
family, was a worthy mate for her husband. 
His aims, his interests, his friends were hers. 
A woman of more than ordinary attainments, 
and of rare personal beauty, she adored her 
husband, and was equally loved by him. 

It was a bright sunny morning, a few days 
after Pythias’ rescue of Marcus from the hands 
of the slaves. Damon had returned the night 
before from a visit to his father-in-law’s estate, 
and at an early hour Pythias had mounted to 
the villa to relate to his friend his adventure, 


32 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


and ask his advice as to his future conduct. 
They were sitting together beneath the vine- 
clad portico, and at a little distance Hermione 
was busy at her embroidery frame. 

My Pythias, ’’ said Damon, when the re- 
cital was concluded, “that you did your duty 
there can be no doubt, but I fear the conse- 
quences. Marcus is not a man to be offended 
with impunity, nor one to forgive a real or 
fancied injury.^’ 

“ I fear him not,” replied Pythias, defiantly. 

Damon smiled, and the look he cast at his 
companion was full of affectionate pride. 

“No, that I know full well, nor any other 
man, but your straightforward nature will 
prove no match for his wiles. His path is as 
crooked and sinuous as that of the serpent. 
Oh, Pythias ! Pythias ! I am sick at my in- 
most heart, when I think of the present state 
of this, our fair city of Syracuse. Marcus ! 
Marcus, president of the Senate ! There is no 
public virtue left in Syracuse. To elect Mar- 
cus president was but a step to electing Dion- 
ysius dictator. The corrupt, degenerate Senate 
would sell their country for a smile.” 

He rose, a flush of indignation mantling his 
noble face, and, pointing to where the Pyrta- 
neuni was conspicuous among the buildings, 
far below on the island of Ortygia, he ex- 
claimed bitterly : “In that fair senate-house 
are germinating the seeds of disloyalty and 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


38 


J treason. Who knows how soon it may be 
‘ transformed from the assembling place of 
i freemen into the palace of a king.^' 

Pythias started to his feet and laid his hand 
upon his friend’s shoulder. 

'' Surely, Damon,” he exclaimed, “ it is not 
so desperate as that ! ” 

I know, my friend, of what I speak. 
Dionysius’ ambition knows no bounds.” 

But surely the senators can hold him in 
i check.” 

The senators ! A paltry handful are faith- 
ful to their country. Procles, Aristobulus, 
Chrysos, Phanor, and say half a dozen more. 
I know not how deep is the corruption, or how 
aspiring are the aims of Dionysius and his 
faction, but I fear the worst. Do you see that 
glancing line of light there in the Via Ortygia, 
and do you know what it is ? The spears of 
warriors ! Why have the soldiers been called 
in, company by company, from Agrigentum ? 
Can you answer me that, my Pythias ? ” 

I Pythias hesitated. 

^‘ The army adores Dionysius,” he said at 
last. 

Yes, and well it may. He is a brave gen- 
eral, a great general, who has won achieve- 
ments in war which are an honor to him and 
a glory to the State. But his ambition, Pythias, 
his ambition will prove his country’s ruin.” 

'' But will the people allow — ” 


34 


A TKUE KNIGHT. 


“ The people ! What can the people do with 
the Senate and the army against them ? Even 
if they recognized their peril, it is doubtful if 
they would attempt to escape it. To know the 
danger has never prevented either men or 
nations from rushing to meet it ; on the con- . 
trary, abysses possess a fatal attraction.’' 

I can not but hope, Damon, that you 
exaggerate the gravity of the situation.” 

I hope so, too, with all my heart, but I am 
in a position to read the signs of the times 
better than you, my warrior.” 

Then, turning toward the smiling city that 
lay below, at his feet, he stretched out his 
hands toward it, and murmured with infinite 
sorrow, with infinite affection : 

‘‘ Oh ! Syracuse, am I to be forced to despair 
of thee? Thee of whom I have hoped so , 
much! Fair flower of the Mediterranean, 
with corruption gnawing at thy heart. False 
to thy loves, false to thyself, what will thy ; 
future be ? And yet thou art my country, the 
land of my birth, and shouldst thou prove 
unworthy, like a harsh mother, I can only 
grieve for, not hate thee 1 ” ; 

Was it the glare of sunshine or was it to ) 
hide the moisture there that he shaded his v 
eyes with his hand ? 

Pythias Avas silent for very sympathy, al- 
though it Avas scarcely natural, not being him- 
self a native of Syracuse, that he should feel ' 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


35 


as strongly as his friend the dangers which 
seemed to threaten her. But suddenly an 
idea came to him Avhich was like a barbed 
arrow through his faithful heart. In success- 
ful revolutions, what is the fate of those who 
have offered opposition in vain ? Danger to 
Syracuse was one thing, but danger to Damon 
was another. The one affected him but mod- 
erately, the other moved every fibre of his 
being. 

Carried away by this new dread, he seized 
Damon’s hand in his and exclaimed impetu- 
ously : 

Damon, my Damon, should your fore- 
bodings prove true, I implore you do nothing 
rash. If you can not stem the tide, let it take 
its course.” 

For a moment Damon’s face was stern, but, 
as his eyes fell upon the pleading countenance 
of his friend, his expression softened. With 
an affectionate gesture, he threw his arm 
about Pythias’ neck, and answered gently : 

''My friend, I understand and appreciate 
the feeling that inspired those words, but, be- 
lieve me, they are unworthy of you, unworthy 
of me. The wickedness and folly of my fel- 
low-countrymen may weaken my love for 
them, but it does not absolve me from serving 
them. If I suffer evil to be done, without 
making any effort to prevent it, then I myself 
am a participant in the crime. No more of 


36 


A I^RUE KNIGHl\ 


this, my Pythias, I beg. I know my duty. 
One can not reason as to what honor demands, 
one can only feel it.” 

At this moment Hermione approached. 

‘‘ Weary of your work, my Hermione? ” 
asked Damon, his grave face relaxing, “ or 
are you jealous that this boy here has kept me 
so long with his chatter ? ” 

Hermione smiled proudly and confidently. 

“Jealous ! ” she answered, with a gesture of 
denial. “ Love and friendship are twin roses 
that flourish together in the fertile garden of 
your heart, my husband. Pythias and I are 
content.” 

Damon drew her toward him and held out 
his hand to Pythias. 

“ With such a wife and such a friend, what 
man would not be content ? ” 

As the trio stood there together, the sound 
of a horse’s hoofs rang out upon the air, and 
in another moment up the curve of the ave- 
nue swept, with long, swinging strides, a 
superb horse, black as night. Upon his back 
was a lad in the coarse brown garb of a slave, 
holding in front of him a little child, who 
clasped its tiny hands and shrieked with de- 
light. 

Hermione, with maternal anxiety, started 
forward, but the horse was already reined up 
before the portico. The rider leaned forward 
and placed the child in its mother’s arms, and 
then leaped to the ground. 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


37 


“ Your pardon, mistress,’' he said, humbly, 

if I have offended, but I met him with Anna 
in the road beyond, and he begged so for a 
ride, I could not refuse.” 

‘‘He is always safe with you, Lucullus, I 
know,” replied Hermione, kindly. 

The child began to prattle away to his 
mother, relating the delights of his ride, while 
Damon looked on with fatherly pride. 

“ Look at our boy,” he said to Pythias, 
“ and mark the healthy color in his cheek. 
It’s as fresh and blooming as a young peach.” 

He took the child in his arms. 

“ And were you not afraid, my boy ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Afraid, no ; ” piped the childish treble. 
“ I am never afraid, father.” 

“ Never afraid ? So ! ” 

“No, I must not be afraid, for when I grow 
up, I am going to be a soldier like Pythias.” 

They all laughed at this, and Hermione, 
taking the boy again, led him into the house. 

Damon advanced to where the horse was 
nervously pawing the ground and tossing his 
slender head. The beast evidently knew his 
master, for he became instantly still and 
whinnied softly as Damon stroked his neck. 

“ Brave Mercury ! We have had many a 
good gallop together, and many a good one is 
still in store for us. But away to your stable, 
your dinner is ready.” 


38 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


He clapped his hands twice. The horse 
seemed to understand the signal, for he started 
off at a slow trot and disappeared around the 
house. 

Well, Lucullus,” said Damon, turning to 
his slave, and there was an anxious ring in his 
voice as he asked the question, What news 
in the city? ” 

Lucullus’ ugly face grew grave. He knew 
that what he had to relate would not be pleas- 
ant for his master to hear, and he hesitated to 
cause him annoyance. 

Well, boy, have you lost your tongue ? 

No, my lord. The — the general, Dion- 
ysius, proceeded through the streets to-day 
to the citadel. The very housetops were 
thronged with people. It was like a tri- 
umphal procession. With him were generals 
and senators. 

^‘Ah ! The exclamation was almost like a 
cry of pain. “ Proceed ! 

“ He was greeted everywhere with acclama- 
tions. The men cheered and the women 
showered him with flowers. When he reached 
the public square in front of the citadel, 
some one cried out : ^ Long live Dionysius, 
King of Syracuse ! ^ 

Damon’s lips twitched and he struck his 
hands passionately together. 

'' Now, by the gods, but this is too much ! 
And the people, how did the people bear this ? 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


39 


Did they not tear the presumptuous wretch to 
pieces ? ’’ 

The people ? Oh, no ! They laughed 
and cheered, then laughed and cheered again.” 

Damon was silent, his loyal heart torn with 
conflicting emotions. Long live Dionysius, 
King of Syracuse ! and the Syracusans, his 
fellow-citizens, had greeted this menace to 
their liberty with laughter and cheers. 
Why is the crowd always so eager to accept 
despotism, even to idealize it? And, that 
being the- case, how easy it is for clever scoun- 
drels to profit by the people’s weakness! 
Syracuse beneath the rule of a tyrant ! 
Never, so long as Damon lives and can pre- 
vent it. But the time had not yet come for 
action. Patience 1 patience 1 and may the 
gods lend their end, and crush so foul a con- 
spiracy ! 

While Damon was thus wrapt in thought, 
Lucullus approached Pythias and said in a 
low voice : 

My lord, Placidus is safe on board a bark 
that now must be far out to sea.” 

'' Ah I It is well that he is in safety.” 

Having no overweening trust in Marcus’ 
promise that his attackers should go free, and 
believing that he would still avenge himself, 
if he could do so without discovery, Pythias 
had sought out the next day the owner of 
Placidus, who chanced to be a comrade-iii- 


40 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


arms of his own. Out of his slender store of 
money he had purchased the man and 
shipped him on board a vessel bound for 
Athens. The young Pythagorean^s word had 
been pledged, and even though it were to a 
slave, his oath to his fraternity and his own 
sense of honor compelled him to see, at all 
costs, that the promise given was fulfilled to 
the letter. 

“His sister. Daphne,” continued Lucullus 
nervously and with downcast eyes, “ his sister. 
Daphne, bade me offer you her duty and 
humble gratitude.” 

“ Ah ! Placidus has a sister, has he ? 
Daphne ! A pretty name. By the way, Lu- 
cullus, you have never told me how you ob- 
tained the information of the intended attack 
upon Marcus and so were enabled to warn 
me.” 

“ I — I — ,” stammered the boy. “ Daphne 
told me.” 

“ Daphne again ! ” ejaculated Pythias, highly 
amused. “You must know this Daphne 
well.” 

“Yes, my lord — ^that is — we hope to be 
married some day.” 

At this Pythias laughed aloud, and Damon, 
startled from his reflections, turned and asked 
the cause of the merriment. 

“ Why,” said Pythias, still laughing, “ this 
lad here has already entered the lists of love, 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


41 


and been wounded by an arrow from the 
quiver of the amorous god.’’ 

Lucullus kept his eyes still fixed on the 
ground, but a deep fiush appeared beneath his 
swarthy skin. 

As Pythias observed his embarrassment, he 
ceased his laughter, and said kindly : There, 
my boy, do not take it to heart. I meant 
nothing. This is a good lad of yours, Damon, 
an honest one. It was he, you know, who 
gave me warning the other night. By Jupi- 
ter, but he runs like a deer ! ” 

Yes,” answered Damon, “ I know his 
worth.” 

The boy raised his eyes gratefully at this. 

“You should enter him for the running 
race at the opening of the new amphitheatre,” 
observed Pythias. 

“ I was there this morning,” exclaimed the 
lad. 

“ Is the day of the opening fixed ? ” asked 
Damon, absently. 

“Yes, my lord, for three days hence. I was 
at the training school this morning, and ran 
twice about the course. ’ ’ 

“ With what success ? ” 

The answer was made with pardonable 
pride : 

“Old Gelon, the trainer, declared that there 
was not a man in the games who could out- 
strip me, save Eumolpus, who has come 


42 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


especially from Athens for the opening of our 
amphitheatre. The lists close to-morrow.” 

The note of regret in this last sentence ar- 
rested Damon^s attention. He glanced at the 
lad from head to foot, noted the lithe muscu- 
larity of his frame, the honesty and intelli- 
gence that beamed in his clear eye. He re- 
membered, too, his ever-faithful and unques- 
tioning service, and on the spot he formed a 
sudden resolution. 

“Would you like to enter the lists, Lu- 
cullus? ” he asked. 

The boy started. To run, even as a slave, 
for the credit of his master was better than 
not to run at all. So he gave an eager assent. 

“ Yes, my lord, and it shall be my best en- 
deavor to do you honor.” 

“To do me honor ! Nay, I meant not 
that. Run to do yourself honor.” 

“Myself! ” exclaimed the boy, not under- 
standing. 

“ Yes, you shall enter, not as a slave, but as 
a freeman. From this moment I give you 
your liberty.” 

Lucullus was speechless. For a brief inter- 
val his brain refused to act. He could not 
grasp the meaning of the words just spoken. 
Then, as the full realization of it all dawned 
upon him, he trembled in every limb. 

“ Master,” he gasped, “ you are jesting I ” 

“ No, not jesting, it is true ; I give vou your 
liberty.” 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


43 


With eyes suffused with tears, Lucullus 
threw himself in wild abandon at Damon^s 
feet, and, seizing his hand, covered it with 
kisses. 

You are too good, my lord,’' he sobbed, 
“ too good.” 

There, there, my boy,” said Damon, 
kindly, be composed. You deserve it. You 
have been a faithful servant to me. See that 
you serve yourself equally well. Be virtuous, 
if only for the greater satisfaction you 
will have in the end. Rise, freeman ! ” 

The lad staggered to his feet, and raised his 
eyes to heaven in an ecstasy of delight. 

Free ! Free ! ” he cried. Free to enter 
the lists, free to work for myself” 

And for Daphne,” added Pythias, with a 
smile. 

There was no blush now, no trace of shy- 
ness. The slave was free and exulted in his 
liberty and strength. 

“Yes, and for Daphne ! ” was the proud re- 
sponse. 

“ Now, away, my boy,” said Damon, “ to 
the training school, if you like, and enter the 
lists. Remember, you have scarce three days 
to prepare.” 

Once more Lucullus seized the hand of the 
generous man who had been but recently his 
master, and pressed it passionately to his lips. 

“ May the gods ever bless and keep you, my 
lord,” he murmured convulsively. 


44 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Then, without further words, he turned, 
and, with step as light and graceful as a pan- 
ther’s, disappeared in the direction of the 
stables. 

That was a kind and noble act of yours, 
Damon,” said Pythias. ’ 

‘‘Ah, my friend,” replied Damon, half sadly, 
“ if we can not do the State and the public the 
service we would, we can at least now and 
then give the individual happiness.” 

As he spoke, Hermione came out under the 
portico, followed by a young girl, a vision of 
loveliness. Her robe of snow-white wool, 
caught on the shoulders with golden clasps, re- 
vealed a neck and arms whose rounded purity 
Aphrodite herself might have envied. A 
girdle of corded silk encircled the slender waist, 
and the dainty foot which peeped from be- 
neath the folds of her gown was shod with a 
sandal of yellow leather. Above the elbow 
on her bare white arm were circlets of gold. 
Her rippling hair, yellow as the ripened corn, 
was twisted at the back of her small head in 
a Grecian knot, from which escaped here and 
there little rebellious curls to kiss the warm 
smoothness of her neck. From beneath the 
heavy fringe of their lashes shone out the 
glory of her eyes, as purple as violets bathed 
in dew ; her lips were as fresh and sweet as an 
unplucked rose, and upon her fair cheek was 
the tender pink of the sea shell. It was little 


BROTHEKS IN HEART. 


45 


wonder that Pythias caught his breath, and 
stood flushing and trembling before her. 

The young girl, however, on her part, ex- 
hibited not the slightest trace of embarrass- 
ment, as with the free, graceful step of a yoiing 
Diana, she moved forward to greet the two 
men. Her whole manner and bearing were 
redolent of maidenly modesty, without a 
vestige of self-consciousness. 

Hermione’s quick eye detected Pythias’ 
confusion, and she exchanged a meaning, 
smiling glance with Damon. A man who has 
been touched by one of the arrows of the 
wicked little archer is not unlike the ostrich : 
he blinds his own eyes, and fancies his wound 
imperceptible to the eyes of others. But love 
is of so peculiar a quality that one can not hide 
it where it is, nor feign it where it is not. 

Welcome, Calanthe,” said Damon, impress- 
ing a fatherly kiss upon her fair forehead. 
'‘You come upon us like a ghost.” 

The girl laughed, and the notes of her 
laughter were as musical as tinkling waters. 

" I came through the orchard and entered 
the house at the b^ack. I wanted to surprise 
you. Hermione and I have been playing with 
the boy for full half an hour, and now I am 
going to gather olives.” 

And she held up a small wicker basket. 

" Go and help, Pythias,” said Hermione, with 
a merry twinkle in her eye. 


46 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


The young soldier flushed scarlet. 

“ May I ? ” he faltered, turning timidly to 
Calanthe. 

‘‘ Why, certainly,’’ she replied, simply, hand- 
ing him the basket. 

“Mars and Venus,” remarked Hermione to 
Damon, as the two young people moved away 
in the direction of the olive grove. 

Damon smiled — one of those rare smiles 
which lent positive beauty to his rugged 
features. 

“Yes, Pythias is evidently caught firmly in 
the meshes. But she ? Does she love him, 
Hermione ? ” 

“Ah, that I can not tell,” replied Hermione, 
thoughtfully. “ I imagine that her heart is 
still unfettered. I have watched her closely, 
in mentioning Pythias, but she has exhibited 
no more emotion at his name than at that of 
any other. But, even were she favorable to 
his suit, Pythias will find it no easy matter to 
win her. Marcus is an applicant for her hand, 
and her father favors him.” 

“ Marcus ! May all the deities of Olympus 
forbid ! Better cast her virgin body to the 
wild beasts of the arena than deliver it to that 
wine-besotten libertine ! ” 

“And yet that wine-besotten libertine is presi- 
dent of the Senate,” observed Hermione, with 
a sidelong glance at her husband. 

“ Yes, thanks to Dionysius’ plotting, and a 
disgrace it is to Syracuse,’! 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


47 


“ Damon, you let the affairs of the common- 
wealth overfret you. Can you not, here in 
this peaceful, smiling home, cast off the bur- 
dens of the State ? ” 

And, taking his hand, she forced him to sit 
down, and threw herself on the ground beside 
him, with her arms resting upon his knee. 
She knew that Damon’s heart was heavy with- 
in him, and, with a true wife’s solicitude, she 
longed and yet scarce knew how to comfort 
him. 

Hermione, my loved one,” said Damon, 
wearily pushing back from his forehead the 
locks that were already slightly frosted with 
silver, there are troublous times before us. 
Shame and danger reek in the air.” 

Shame ! ” echoed Hermione, and then 
added with a ring of pride in her voice, No 
shame can touch you, my husband 1 ” 

“ I do not mean shame to me personally, but 
to the State. I fear Dionysius and his over- 
weening ambition. But danger, ay, personal 
danger, there is.” 

“ Damon ! ” 

It was a cry of distress, of dread, of horror. 

Nay, my Hermione, you must be brave ! 
What, you a soldier’s daughter!” 

“ But, Damon, why need you mingle in 
their fierce disputes? ” 

'‘What, you counsel cowardice! When 
one’s country is in distress, her sons should 


48 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


rally about her as at the bedside of a dying 
mother ! Hermione/’ he continued in a 
calmer tone, but very seriously, I am about 
to ask of your love a great sacrifice.’’ 

Speak,” she murmured faintly, with a ter- 
rible foreboding at her heart. 

“ Hermione,” he continued, gently smooth- 
ing her hair, “ Hermione, should what I fear 
occur, should I see our fair city about to be- 
come the scene of brawl and dissension, you 
must be prepared at a moment’s notice to 
go with the child to your father’s in Catania.” 

She sprang to her feet. 

“ What ! ” she cried, wildly, '' and desert 
you! Desert you in time of peril! Never!” 

Be calm. Have I ever counselled you un- 
wisely, my wife?” 

'' No, but — ” 

“ Then think of the boy. In times of pop- 
ular upheaval, men’s passions run wild, and 
neither women nor children are spared. And, 
Hermione, should the vicissitudes of life take 
me away, I charge you, rear him, the bright- 
est jewel of the world — an honest man.” 

The tears were raining down Hermione’s 
face. 

“There, there, my beloved,” said Damon, 
affectionately, “you are not a widow yet. 
Perhaps, after all, my fears may prove vain. 
But, in case of necessity, I must be certain, 
that, at a word from me, you and the child 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


41 ) 


will depart at once for Catania. Will you 
trust me? Will you promise me? 

For a moment she stood irresolute, and then 
she bent her regal head until her lips touched 
his hand. 

‘'I promise,” she murmured. “Your will 
is my law.” 

Meanwhile, Pythias and Calanthe had 
reached the olive grove. The girl had been 
chattering away blithely, but Pythias had 
been strangely silent, answering only in mon- 
osyllables. At last, in some surprise, she 
stopped, and turning her beautiful eyes full 
upon him, asked : 

“ Are you offended with me that you will 
not speak to me ? ” 

“ Offended ! No ! I—” 

But the glory of her beauty dazzled him 
and he became tongue-tied and mute. 

For months the young soldier had been 
falling more and more in love with this 
radiant maiden, until now he worshipped her 
as a man worships the one woman who is the 
destiny and star of his life. She, meanwhile, 
had been totally unconscious of it all, and 
had treated him with a witchery, half impe- 
rious, half playful, wholly charming. No 
speech of any Pygmalion had as yet awakened 
this Galatea to life, but beneath that fair and 
tranquil bosom beat a heart that was capable 


50 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


of the most passionate attachment, the most 
undying devotion. 

To-day the prize seemed to Pythias further 
from his grasp than ever, and hope died 
within him as he thought: How could a 
nearly penniless soldier of fortune hope to 
win this peerless woman. When she asked 
him if he was offended, he longed to pour 
wildly forth his passion, but all he found to 
say was : 

Offended ! No P’ 

“ Oh, then, if you are really not offended,^^ 
she retorted gaily, ‘‘ you can pick the olives 
for me.” 

They wandered from tree to tree, she direct- 
ing, he obeying. Never was Hercules at the 
feet of Omphale a more willing slave. Soon 
the basket was nearly full of the dark, shin- 
ing fruit. 

All the while he was thinking : Surely, 
never was Venus, when she rose from the sea, 
and, with her smile, flooded the Grecian isles 
with sunlight, more beautiful than she ! But 
— he said nothing. 

Suddenly, as she stepped backward to look 
up into a tree and point out the biggest olives, 
a stray lock caught in one of the branches. 
She made a quick movement, and the golden 
marvel of her hair became unconfined, and 
fell in a shining mass about her shoulders. 
She gave a little cry, and then said innocently : 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


51 


I cannot unloosen it. Will you do it for 
me?” 

He raised his hands and obeyed. They 
were close together, so close that they could 
almost hear the beating of each other's heart. 
The riotous blood was coursing wildly through 
his veins. Intoxicated by the perfume of her 
tresses, maddened with the fragrance of her 
breath, forgetful of all else save his over- 
mastering passion, he threw his arms about 
her, strained her to his breast, and eagerly 
pressed his lips to hers, like a bee drinking in 
the honey of a flower. 

Then, he as suddenly released her, and, 
overcome with horror and shame at the 
thought of what he had done, he sank low at 
her feet, and exclaimed despairingly : 

I love you ! I love you ! Forgive me ! I 
love you ! ” 

Erect, motionless, she stood there, her breath 
coming in .quick gasps. A flood of crimson 
mantled her fair face from neck to forehead,, 
and then as suddenly died away, leaving her 
white as marble. What was this new, strange 
feeling, half joy, half pain, that was thrilling 
her bosom to its very depths. The glories of 
paradise seemed to open before her enraptured 
gaze. Her heart leaped within her, and vague, 
hitherto unknown hopes, took possession of 
her. Like Psyche, beneath the kisses of the 
amorous god, Calanthe awoke to life, to love. 


52 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


All was still in the grove, save for the coo- 
ing of the doves. Calanthe, with her hands 
pressed against her heart, stood gazing into 
vacancy, while Pythias, with downcast eyes, 
knelt despairingly at her feet. 

Then, suddenly moved by an uncontrolla- 
ble impulse, she took the head of the young 
soldier between her hands, and stooping, laid 
her dewy lips upon his forehead. 

With a wild, fierce cry, in a transport of 
happiness, he leaped to his feet, and in another 
moment her head was pillowed upon his 
breast. 

You love me, then ? he cried, rapturously. 
“ You love me, Calanthe? 

She raised her violet eyes to his, eyes in 
which shone the love-light, the light that 
never was on land or sea. 

Love ! ” she mumured tremulously, “ I 
know not whether it be love or not, but I 
know that you are the one man that exists in 
this world for me. I would live for you, die 
for you, follow you to the end of the world ! ’’ 

She was scarcely conscious of the words she 
was saying; her voice wa;’ but echoing the 
feelings of her heart. Shv nad found the 
master of her destiny, and, finaing him, she 
had given herself wholly and unreservedly 
into his keeping. 

No words could depict the emotions that 
filled Pythias' heart as the realization came to 


BROTHERS IN HEART. 


53 


him that he had won the prize he had thought 
so unattainable. A moment like this was 
worth an eternity of ordinary hours, and yet, 
with it all, was an overwhelming sense of his 
own unworthiness. 

What am I, my Calanthe,^’ he exclaimed, 
“ to have deserved this? I, with none of this 
world^s goods, a poor soldier, with only my 
sword to hew my way to fortune. I — but 
she checked him with a pretty, impetuous 
gesture. 

I am content,” she said softly. “ Love 
has only itself to offer, and whoever desires 
more is not worthy to be loved.” 

The olives were forgotten and lay where 
they had fallen, scattered upon the ground. 
Oblivious to all the world beside, in an ecstatic 
solitude of two, the young couple strolled 
further and further into the grove. 

What need to follow them? It would be 
only to listen to the old, old story which has 
been told for innumerable centuries past, and 
will be told for innumerable centuries to 
come. Love is divine, and therefore eternal. 


CHAPTER HI. 


THE conspirators’ FEAST. 

D ionysius, senator and commander-in- 
chief of the Syracusan forces, was a nota- 
ble man in a time of notable men, being per- 
haps the most celebrated warrior and states- 
man of his age. His intellectual attainments 
were far above the average. He was a most 
excellent judge of human nature, and under- 
stood thoroughly how to select his subordi- 
nates and mould them to his purposes. His 
natural impulses were kindly and even gener- 
ous, but his ambition knew no bounds, and he 
was unscrupulous as to the methods he em- 
ployed to attain his ends. For so young a 
man, his military successes had been little 
short of marvellous, and his speeches in the 
Senate were full of brilliancy and tact. But 
he was not content with his triumphs in camp 
and in the political arena ; he was determined 
to become absolute ruler of Syracuse. The 
army was devoted to him to a man and would 
have upheld him in any enterprise he chose 
to undertake, but it was his desire to accom- 
plish his purpose by diplomacy and without 

54 


THE CONSPIKATORS’ FEAST. 


55 


bloodshed. With this end in view, he had 
known how to attach to himself several of the 
most powerful of the senators. With Damon 
at their head, a small band of devoted patriots, 
who were unwilling that their free republic 
should be transformed into a kingdom, were 
bitterly opposed to his designs. They were, 
however, in the minority, and Dionysius be- 
lieved that the time had now arrived to strike 
a decisive blow. 

On the evening of the day that Pythias and 
Calanthe plighted their troth, Dionysius was 
giving a feast to some twenty carefully selected 
guests. 

The magnificent banqueting hall of the 
palace, with its priceless columns of porphry 
and its crimson draperies stiff with embroidery 
in gold and silver, w^as ablaze with lights. 
Festoons of flowers hung from pillar to pillar, 
and great masses of lilies were piled in each 
corner of the room. The ivory tables were a 
riot of color with their many-hued fruits 
and flowers, and their massive plate. Nubian 
slaves of gigantic stature were busy refilling 
the golden flagons, and soft music from un- 
seen musicians floated dreamily through the 
air. The repast, which was approaching its 
end, had been superb ; money had been spent 
with lavish hands to procure all the rarest 
delicacies, and Dionysius felt satisfied that liis 
resolve to give the most magnificent entertain- 


56 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


ment ever known in Syracuse had been accom- 
plished. At the head of the table, arranged 
on three sides of a square, reclined the giver 
of the feast, his handsome head crowned with 
a wreath of roses ; there was a look of deter- 
mination on his refined, clear-cut features as 
he felt that the moment to unfold his plans 
had come. With his supreme confidence in 
himself, a confidence which had as yet been 
unshaken by circumstances, he had but little 
fear of the result. He was sure of the army, 
and men are very apt to coincide with one’s 
views when these views are sustained by force. 

He was arrayed to-night in a robe and 
mantle of imperial purple, and more than one 
of the guests found the color significant. 

At Dionysius’ right was Marcus, his heavy, 
sensual face purple with the wine he had im- 
bibed, but his little eyes as keen as ^ a ferret’s. 
In this contemplated overthrow of the govern- 
ment and seizure of power, he was determined 
to have his full share of the spoils. If it be 
true that Deucalion and Pyrrha populated the 
world by casting stones behind them, there 
must have been people whose hearts never 
became flesh and blood, but retained their 
original flinty substance, and Marcus was a 
descendant of one of these. Thoroughly 
selfish and unprincipled, all that he cared for 
were the gratification of his passions and his 
own aggrandizement. He was faithful to 


THE conspirators’ FEAST. 57 

Dionysius, because it was for his interests to 
be so, but should Dionysius’ star set, he would 
desert him as rats are said to do a sinking 
ship. 

Opposite Marcus, on the other side of the 
host, was a man of about forty, with a proud, 
high-bred face — Philistius, one of the generals 
oi the army. Although Philistius was well 
aware of Dionysius’ ambition and did not 
wholly trust him, he had allied himself to his 
faction as he was a firm believer in a mon- 
archical form of government. A descendant 
of one of the most powerful of the oligarchic 
families, he was both by nature and education 
a strong supporter of the principles of aris- 
tocracy, and Dionysius seemed to him to be 
the most available and fitting candidate to 
represent that party. Remem&ring what his 
family had been forced to suffer, by expulsion 
and confiscation, under a former democracy, he 
hated the republic, and looked to a monarchy 
for the righting of all the real or fancied 
wrongs of his order. 

Further down, on the same side, was old 
Damocles, whose caustic tongue caused him 
to be feared both in private circles and in the 
debates of the Prytaneum. The old man 
knew his power and took a malicious pleasure 
in exposing the weak spots of his contempor- 
aries. 

Near Damocles was Dionvsius’ father-in- 


58 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


law, the patrician Hermocrates, a man of most 
ordinary attainments, who had achieved a 
reputation for uncommon wisdom by assidu- 
ously practicing the golden rule of silence. 
The art of taciturnity is more often than one 
thinks the successful rival of the gift of speech. 

The rest of the company were leading mem- 
bers of the Senate, who, for public or private 
reasons, were known to be in full sympathy 
with the proposed revolutionary movement. 

At a signal from the host, the slaves rolled 
the couches nearer the head of the tables and 
retired, lowering the glowing draperies behind 
them. 

All eyes were turned upon Dionysius. Al- 
though no positive intimation had been made, 
no one was in ignorance that he had been bid- 
den to this feast for a purpose. 

Dionysius rose, a trifle paler than usual, 
and lifted his beaker of wine high in the air. 

'‘My friends,” he said, " let us drink to our 
success in electing the worthy Marcus to the 
presidency.” 

After each had touched his lips to the ruby 
liquid, the person thus honored lifted his 
heavy body to a standing posture. 

" I thank you, friends,” he began, " for the 
confldence you have reposed in me. I love 
my country.” 

• “Yes, as the wolf loves the lamb,” inter- 
posed old Damocles, but in so low a tone that 


TheJ conspirators* feast. 59 

he was only heard by one or two of his imme- 
diate neighbors. 

Marcus continued for some moments in a 
bombastic, self-satisfied strain, and concluded 
with a pompous declaration of his resolve to 
serve the State faithfully and honestly. 

As he sat down and wiped the perspiration 
from his brow, Damocles observed refiectively, 
and this time so audibly as to be heard dis- 
tinctly by the company : 

How strange it is that in all convulsions, 
either of nature or governments, the scum is 
vomited to the top.'' 

A half-suppressed ripple of laughter ran 
around the tables. Even Dionysius could not 
repress a smile. He had neither liking nor 
respect for the bloated voluptuary, but, as a 
means to further his own ends, he was valu- 
able to him, and he used him without 
scruple. 

Marcus, more purple than ever, and chok- 
ing with rage, affected not to have heard. He 
was too wise to attempt to measure swords 
with the outspoken, satirical veteran. 

Philistius came to the rescue to cover his 
confusion. 

Senators," he said, our minds are one, 
and there need be no concealment of our pur- 
pose in meeting here to-night, to put an end 
to this vile government of the people, which 
is fast encroaching upon our rights and liber- 


60 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


ties, and to establish a kingdom with this, our 
Dionysius at its head/' 

These words were greeted with a wild 
clamor of applause. When it had died away, 
Hermocrates said: 

Speak, Dionysius, tell us of your plans." 

Dionysius' brilliant eyes swept the tables, 
resting in turn upon each of his guests. There 
was not one there whom he had not bound 
firmly to himself, and he knew all were ready 
to follow where he should lead. It was his 
belief that while it is the good luck of a states- 
man to be well served by circumstances, it 
should be his chief concern to see that he is 
well served by men, and to this end he had 
devoted all his cleverness and tact. 

After this glance, which seemed to each one 
a personal appeal, he said slowly and mean- 
ingly : 

Syracuse has a citadel." 

True," responded Damocles. Your 
meaning, my lord ! " 

^‘And in this citadel are stored its national 
stock of corn, gold and provisions." 

He paused a moment, to give full force to 
his next words. 

This citadel is not impregnable." 

‘‘ By Jupiter, I see your drift ! " exclaimed 
Philistius. 

^'Ay, good Philistius, the army will question 
no command of mine. And this citadel once 


THE CONSPIRATORS^ FEAST. 


61 


manned and ordered to my will, what will 
avail the frothy speeches of the opposing fac- 
tion. By a bold stroke the Senate is ours.'' 

But the populace ? " suggested one named 
Creon, young and fair of face. 

“ The populace ! The populace will follow 
blindly and without volition whoever dares 
to lead them. Besides," with a smile, “our 
good Marcus here will assemble the Senate the 
day after the opening of the amphitheatre." 

The full meaning of this statement was well 
understood. It was from Dionysius' purse 
that had come a large proportion of the funds 
to erect this new place of amusement. The 
cry, “Pa9^m et Cir censes was the one that 
appealed strongest to the vast majority of the 
common people. Give them well-filled bellies 
and plenty of such distraction as they ^^re- 
ferred, arid they cared but little who ru.ed 
them. 

“ The chief obstacle to our hopes," remarked 
Philistius, “ is that stale pedant, the Pytha- 
gorean." 

“Damon." 

“Ay, Damon." 

“And Pythias," put in Marcus, eagerly. “ Do 
not forget Pythias. The rogue is equally to 
be feared." 

Since the night of the attack upon him by 
the slaves, Marcus had been growing more and 
more rancorous toward his .preserver. Grati- 


62 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


tude is like that liquor of the Orient which 
can be kept only in vessels of gold; it perfumes 
great souls, but it turns to gall in petty ones. 
Moreover, Calanthe’s beauty had inspired the 
gross libertine not with love, for it would be 
an insult to the divine passion to designate 
his feeling by that name, but with a vile de- 
sire which would shrink at nothing to obtain 
satisfaction. The sensualist’s keen little eyes 
had long since discovered that Pythias was 
likely to become his rival, and, in consequence 
he hated the young soldier with all the bitter- 
ness of his low and narrow nature. 

Bah ! ” rejoined Philistius, impatiently. 

Pythias is without influence and can effect 
nothing. But Damon is another matter.” 

“Yes,” assented Dionysius, thoughtfully. 
“ Damon is the one most to be feared.” 

“ His power with his faction is great,” said 
Damocles, ‘ ' and he may be able yet to foil the 
last and greatest of your hopes.” 

Dionysius flushed angrily. 

“ I will conquer still,” he exolaimed. “ And 
if this austere sage’s counsels prove too knotty 
for unraveling, a sharp sword may be found 
useful. The time will come, Damocles, when 
he will And I know how to avenge an injury 
as well as to requite a favor.” 

“ That would be wrong,” replied Damocles, 
sententiously. “We should feel only thank- 
fulness to our enemies, for, without them, we 
should be only half of ourselves.” 


THE conspirators’ FEAST. 63 

Your advice, Damocles. What have you 
to suggest to silence this clamorous dema- 
gogue?” 

The old man looked up with an equivocal 
smile about his thin lips. He sincerely wished 
Dionysius’ triumph, but his malicious nature 
could not resist the administering of a furtive 
stab. 

‘‘Far be it from me, my lord,” he replied, 
“ to presume to advise you. You seem to me 
to possess most of the elements of success. 
To obtain one’s desire in this world one needs 
only a little talent, a little tact, a little per- 
sistency and will, and much luck.” 

“ Luck ! ” echoed Dionysius, contemptu- 
ously. “ Luck is only another name for co- 
incidence. Moreover, man more often fails 
luck than luck fails man. I take it much 
unkindly, Damocles, that in matters of grave 
import you should answer me thus trivially.” 

The old man rose, and, approaching the 
man he was willing to accept as his king, he 
laid his hand upon his shoulder. Beneath all 
his roughness and acerbity, he had a genuine 
admiration for the young general’s ability. 

“ Nay, be not offended,” he said, more 
seriously than he had spoken as yet. “You 
know Avell I am with you, heart and soul. 
But see that there are no weak places in your 
armor, and do not underrate the strength of 
your opponents. The greater part of our 


64 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


failures is due to estimating too lightly both 
our own faults and the powerful qualities of 
our adversaries. We have confidence in you; 
Dionysius. Syracusans, let us be the first to 
hail our king ! ” 

They pressed around him, eager to do him 
homage, and Dionysius, proud and smiling, 
felt his heart swell as he thus tasted the first 
fruits of his satisfied ambition. 

Damocles looked on with a mixture of grati- 
fication and cynicism. 

Our edifice is nearing completion,’^ he 
thought, “ but we build only to give those who 
shall follow us the opportunity to demolish 
what we have erected.” 

When his followers had returned to their 
places, Dionysius gave them their final instruc- 
tions, appointing each to his place and duties 
on the eventful day which was to mark the 
rise or fall of his fortunes. This was accom- 
plished with remarkable discrimination, and 
to each man he said such words as were most 
calculated to flatter his own particular vanity. 
There were some among them whom in his 
inmost heart he had resolved to brush from 
his path as soon as he should be firmly seated 
in power, but, almost unconscious of his own 
hypocrisy, he now addressed to these very men 
his most honeyed phrases. 

The last word of command spoken, the last 
caution given, he clapped his hands, exclaim- 
ing : 


THE conspirators’ FEAST. 65 

Now to less weighty matters ! ” 

The curtains as if by magic were drawn 
aside, and slaves appeared, bearing great 
pitchers of fresh wine. All settled themselves 
more comfortably on their elbows, and pre- 
pared to indulge in that prodigious drinking 
bout which was the invariable wind-up of all 
banquets in those days. Marcus’ thick lips 
were wreathed in a sensual smile in anticipa- 
tion of the delights before him, for he knew 
by joyful experience that the wines served at 
Dionysius’ table were the rarest and costliest 
to be procured. 

A few minutes after the appearance of the 
slaves, Alithea, wife of Dionysius, and her 
hand-maidens, entered and took their seats at 
a table prepared for them at the extreme end 
of the hall. If it be true that woman exerts 
the greatest influence for good or for evil over 
man, Alithea was an exception to the general 
rule. She would have been handsome had it 
not been for the expression of sullenness 
which disflgured her comely features. With 
the exception of an overweening arrogance, 
which was her one predominant quality, she 
was as insipid and characterless as a doll. 
Dionysius had married her for reasons of 
diplomacy, in order to ally himself still more 
closely with the aristocratic party, and, once 
his wife, she played but an inflnitesimal part 
in his life. 


66 


A TRUE KNI«HT. 


With the advent of the wine, and the 
weightier matters disposed of, the conversation 
turned to lighter subjects, to the opening of 
the amphitheatre and the comparative merits 
of the contestants in wrestling, running, 
fencing and quoit throwing. 

The running race was the subject of the 
greatest interest, since Eumolpus, the most 
famous runner of Athens, had come to Syra- 
cuse especially to enter the lists, and it was not 
generally believed that the Sicilian city could 
furnish a contestant who would have the 
shadow of a chance against him. 

“ By Pollux,’’ exclaimed Creon, “ I saw him 
run in Athens, and not Atalanta herself could 
surpass him. He is a marvel, I tell you, a 
marvel.” 

“ And yet,” said Dionysius, quietly, '' there 
is one contestant who, I believe, stands a fair 
show of outstripping your champion.” 

^^Who? Who?” 

I was at the training school this morning, 
and saw a young man run, in whom Gelon, 
the trainer, has the greatest confidence.” 

A Syracusan ? ” 

Yes, a boy named Lucullus, until recently 
a slave of Damon.” 

Lucullus ! ” exclaimed Marcus, draining 
his beaker and motioning a slave to fill it 
again. Lucullus ! I know him. I have 
seen him often talking to that pretty little 


THE conspirators’ peast. 67 

bondmaiden of yours — Daphne, I think is her 
name.” 

“ Daphne? Yes, and she is as clever as she 
is pretty, as you will soon have opportunity 
to judge. So she knows this young athlete, 
does she ? ” 

Intimately, or so I should judge from what 
I have seen.” 

I believe he will win the race.” 

‘‘ Impossible ! ” cried Creon ; ‘‘at least, so 
long as Eumolpus is one of the contestants. I 
tell you, he has never been beaten yet, and I 
believe him to be invincible.” 

“ Still,” remarked Dionysius, “ I have ten 
thousand sesterces to wager upon the young 
man.” 

“ Done ! ” cried young Creon, enthusiastic- 
ally ; “ my money is on Eumolpus.” 

“ And mine,” joined in Marcus, a trifle 
thickly. “ Have you ten thousand more to 
stake against the Grecian champion? ” 

“ Ten thousand, and ten thousand more, if 
you like,” replied Dionysius, calmly. 

“ I take it — twenty thousand.” 

The guests stared in surprise. Their host 
must be mad. What chance had an unknown 
and probably untrained lad against a cham- 
pion whose record was unbroken, who had 
won his laurels not only in Athens, but also 
in all the principal cities of Greece and her 
dependencies ? 


68 


A TRtJE KNIGUf. 


Offers of wagers poured in upon the young 
runner’s supporter, offers which he quietly 
accepted, until he had more than a hundred 
thousand sesterces placed upon his favorite. 

“I believe that I am right, my friends,” 
said Dionysius, with a smile, when the prop- 
ositions ceased. Old Gelon has great confi- 
dence in him. I saw him run about the 
course myself, and, I assure you, he is fleet as 
a deer.” 

As a matter of fact, he was not at all over- 
confident as to his protege’s winning, but he 
considered it policy to accept the bets, even 
were he sure of losing. Under any circum- 
stances, the money was well risked. 

At this moment there entered the room, 
and advanced toward the side of the host, an 
old man with a long, snowy beard, clothed in 
a flowing blue robe and holding a tall white 
staff of office in his hand. It was the master 
of the revels. The entertainment of music, 
dancing and recitations, which was the invari- 
able concomitant of all banquets, was about 
to commence. 

‘‘Will it please my lord and his gracious 
friends,” began the old man, “to hear first 
the singing boys or the ode to Bacchus, com- 
posed by my lord the other night ? ’•’ 

In addition to his other accomplishments, 
Dionysius was something of a poet, although 
he rated his ability in this line far above its 
actual worth. 


'THE conspirators’ FEAST. 69 

The ode ! cried Creon. 

“Yes, the ode ! the ode ! ” repeated the 
others in chorus. 

The master of the revels clapped his hands 
twice and there appeared a handsome youth 
clothed in a white tunic, with a leopard’s skin 
over his shoulders and a wreath of the vines 
and fruit of the grape upon his flowing locks. 
After saluting with low reverence the com- 
pany, he recited in a high-pitched, monoto- 
nous voice, a poem in the Anacreontic vein, 
relating in words which to-day would be con- 
sidered decidedly indelicate the pleasures of 
the devotees of Bacchus and Venus. The 
verses were somewhat halting and the ideas 
not wholly original, but the guests applauded 
loudly the recitation, as they were in duty 
bound to do in compliment to their host. 

After this, appeared six young boys, who, 
with voices clearer and sweeter than that of 
woman, chanted two songs, recently brought 
from Athens and heard then for the first time 
in Syracuse. 

As the boys disappeared, the musicians, 
who were now stationed in a balcony beneath 
the arched roof, struck up a wild, barbaric 
dance measure. 

From behind the curtains glided into the 
open space a young girl. Her slender form 
was clothed in diaphanous draperies of the 
color sacred to Venus, and about her wrists 


70 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


and ankles were circlets of tiny silver bells. 
In her hands she held the crotali, a species of 
instrument not dissimilar to the modern Span- 
ish castanets. For a moment she stood poised 
upon one dainty naked foot with her arms 
raised high in air, like a beautiful bird about 
to take its flight. Then, in attitudes of vo- 
luptuous grace, she swayed to and fro in time 
with the languorous notes of the musicians. 
Suddenly, she clinked loudly her crotali, and 
the music swelled gradually faster and faster 
until it was a wild frantic measure, and the 
girl with her twinkling feet and tossing arms 
seemed like the incarnation of a whirlwind. 

Then, in an instant, at a signal arranged 
beforehand, both music and dancer stopped, 
and Daphne, for it was she, stood motionless 
as a statue, with bent head and arms crossed 
submissively upon her bosom, while the 
vehement applause of the revellers echoed 
about her. 

By Terpsichore,’^ cried Damocles, who was 
not too old to feel the blood thrill through 
his veins at the sight of grace and beauty, “ a 
man might well give a year of his life to 
witness such dancing as that ! ’’ 

As he spoke, he flung a handful of coins at 
the dancer’s feet. His example was followed 
by all the others, save Marcus, who thrust his 
hand into his bosom, but withdrew it empty. 
It was not his custom to pay for what he 
could get for nothing. 


THE conspirators' FEAST. 71 

Approach, my child," said Dionysius, 
kindly. 

All breathless with her recent exercise and 
Avith the warm blood glowing in her soft 
cheek, she advanced and stood beside the 
couch on which her master reclined. 

You have improved, my child. Never 
have I seen you dance better, and your tal- 
ents shall not go unrewarded by me. They 
tell me, Daphne, that you are not Avholly a 
stranger to this young runner of the circus — 
Lucullus, I think is his name." 

The flush deepened in her face, as she 
answered : 

Yes, my lord, I know him." 

Marcus laughed coarsely. The wine was 
beginning to affect him, and his hand was 
unsteady as he raised the beaker before him. 

‘^He is your lover, I suppose, my pretty 
one," he said in harsh, guttural tones. 

The girl flashed one glance full of indigna- 
tion upon him. She had more than once 
been addressed by the corpulent senator in a 
manner that had been revolting to her maid- 
enly modesty, and she loathed and shrank 
from him. In the presence of her master, 
however, who had always been kind to her, 
she felt no fear. Besides, there was nothing 
for her to be ashamed of in her relations with 
Lucullus. So she answered simply, but with 
a little tremor in her voice. 


72 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


“ Yes, my lord, Lucullus loves nae and I 
love him.’' 

Marcus was about to make some remark, 
doubtless of a coarse nature, but Dionysius, 
who was never wantonly cruel to anyone, 
checked him with a gesture. 

Then, turning to the slave-girl, he said in a 
reassuring tone : 

^‘This is news to me. But tell us. Daphne, 
will he win the race? ” 

Yes, yes, my lord,” she exclaimed, eagerly, 

I think, I know he will.” 

May your faith be justified ! For I have a 
hundred thousand sesterces upon his success. 
By the way, my girl, you have not yet re- 
ceived your reward from me. Tell me, what 
shall I give you ? ” 

Daphne started. A sudden idea caused her 
heart to leap into her throat, and then and 
there she formed a determination the very 
boldness of which startled her. 

Is it for me to say, my lord ? ” she asked, 
her voice shaking in spite of herself. 

Dionysius looked somewhat surprised. 

“ It is for you to ask,” he replied, but it 
rests with me to grant your request.” 

Daphne shivered. She was about, perhaps, 
to risk her whole happiness, and she felt fixed 
upon her the cold gaze of her mistress, who 
was surprised at her husband’s long colloquy 
with a slave. But, with an imnaense effort of 


THE CONSPIRATORS FEAST. 


73 


the will, she steadied her nerves, and said 
boldly : 

“ Then, my lord, I ask — my freedom ! ” 

Amazed and a little angry at the girl's dar- 
ing, Dionysius was silent, while Marcus burst 
out into a loud, chuckling laugh. 

Now by all the gods," he roared, the girl 
asks enough. Her freedom, forsooth ! Sell 
her to me, Dionysius ! Ten thousand sesterces 
for her ! " 

Daphne shuddered with apprehension and 
cast an appealing glance at her master, whose 
brow cleared and he smiled eijcouragingly at 
her. Not for ten times the amount offered 
would he have sold her at that moment to his 
corpulent friend. As has been said, Dion- 
ysius was not naturally unkind or cruel : it 
was only when opposed in his ambitions that 
he showed himself hard and unflinching as 
steel. 

'' Your demand can scarcely be considered 
a modest one, my child, but it shall be granted 
on one condition." 

Daphne caught her breath. After she had 
spoken, her little frame was racked with 
fright at her own temerity, and to feel that at 
all events she was not to be ordered away for 
punishment was a relief indeed. 

I have wagered a hundred thousand sester- 
ces," continued Dionysius, “that Lucullus 
wins the foot-race. Should he do so, I will 


74 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


give him you with five thousand sesterces as 
a wedding portion. Tell him this.^^ 

With her eyes streaming with tears, Daphne 
fell upon her knees, not daring to touch the 
hem of her master^s robe. 

Marcus, his heavy head resting on one 
flabby arm, blinked and marvelled at his 
patron’s folly, but old Damocles nodded slowly 
in approval, as he thought : 

“ Once firmly established, he will make a 
wise ruler. He has good qualities, but — well, 
time and the gods alone can determine the 
result.” 

Dionysius, with a gesture, motioned Daphne 
to rise, and, reiterating his promise, dismissed 
her. 

She flew from the hall, the silver bells on 
her arms and ankles, making merry music 
as she ran. What mattered that night, her 
mistress’ harsh words and sullen looks? There 
was a little bird singing in her heart, a little 
bird, whose notes of hope and joy nothing 
could stifle. 

The lights were burning low, and the feast 
was nearing its end. 

Alithea and her maidens had retired to 
their apartments. 

After a last bumper and a libation to the 
gods, the guests rose to depart, some of them, 
especially Marcus, a little unsteady on their 
legs. Drunkenness was not a very reprehen- 


THE conspirators’ FEAST. 75 

sible vice in those days, however, and those 
who had indulged too heavily did not* suffer 
in the eyes of their companions. Dionysius 
removed the chaplet of flowers from his hair, 
and as he took leave of the men who stood 
pledged to raise him to the highest pinnacle 
of his ambition, he handed to each a rose — 
the emblem of silence. 


CHAPTER IV. 


EROS AND ANTEROS. 

T he purple shadows lay thick upon the 
hills when Pythias and Calanthe re- 
turned from the expedition which had been 
so fruitless as regards olives, but so rich in 
other respects. 

As Hermione noticed the lack of fruit, and 
that even the basket had mysteriously disap- 
peared, she smiled significantly, and threw a 
questioning glance at Calanthe, who crimsoned 
and cast down her eyes. With her quick 
woman’s wit, Hermione divined it all, and she 
opened her arms and clasped the blushing 
girl to her breast. Damon, of course, rejoiced 
in his friend’s happiness, and Hermione, in 
the presence of a love affair, that most inter- 
esting of all things to a woman, almost forgot 
her own troubles and anxieties. 

They lingered long in the twilight upon 
the green sward, discussing the future pf the 
young couple, and, before they separated, it 
was arranged that Pythias should go the next 
morning to Calanthe’s father to ask for his 


EROS AND ANTEROS. 


77 


daughter's hand, a request which, in all prob- 
ability, would meet with a refusal, for Myron 
was very ambitious for his beautiful daughter. 
Pythias learned for the first time of Marcus' 
pretensions, and, in his indignation, for the 
moment regretted that he had saved him 
from the hands of the slaves. 

You are both young and can wait," said 
Damon. Besides, there is no happiness so 
lasting as that which is long deferred." 

Ever moralizing, old bear!" retorted Pyth- 
ias. I am half ashamed to have confessed 
.my love before this philosopher." 

Nay, Pythias," exclaimed Calanthe, 
laughingly. “ He is not half so stern as he 
pretends. I have seen him look at Hermione 
when he thought no one was observing; and 
the Pythagorean's solemn face softened into 
the greatest tenderness. His philosophy is 
not proof against love." 

Hermione slipped her hand into her hus- 
band's, and the way in which he drew her to- 
ward him, showed conclusively that Calan- 
the's words were true. 

'' He loves the State the best," sighed Her- 
mione, and she half believed what she said. 

For shame to utter such words," rejoined 
Damon, stroking the smooth, silken surface 
of her raven hair. You, my Hermione, 
have my love, but my country demands my 
undivided duty, should she have need of my 
voice or my arm." 


78 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


‘‘ Ah, Calanthe,’' said Hermione, you are 
fortunate that your husband will be a soldier. 
The dangers of the battlefield are preferable 
to the anxieties of the forum. See that 
Pythias pays no heed to politics. The states- 
man’s life is not one to be envied.” 

Damon made no reply to this. He felt 
that his wife, from her point of view, had rea- 
son to complain, but he was firmly convinced 
of the direction in which his duty lay, and he 
was more determined than ever to allow noth- 
ing to deter him from following it. 

Calanthe’s home was on a farm just outside 
the city limits. Her father was well to do, 
but by no means rich. She was an only 
child, and her father, who was very proud of 
her beauty and accomplishments, had 
dreamed so long of her making a brilliant 
match, in a worldly point of view, that the 
idea had finally become almost a mania with 
him. The glittering gold of Marcus’ wealth 
so dazzled his eyes that they were incapable of 
discerning the defects in the man’s person and 
character. Now that Maycus was president 
of the Senate, he was more than ever resolved 
to bring about the marriage, by all means in 
his power. 

Myron was a man of nearly seventy, but 
hale and hearty as one of fifty. Someone has 
said that as a man grows old he gains fewer 
good qualities than he loses faults. But with 


EROS AND ANTEROS. 


79 


Myron his seventy years were not the golden 
age of negative virtues. On the contrary, his 
characteristics grew more positive and pro- 
nounced as he advanced in life. What in the 
daughter was firmness and constancy, in the 
father was the most cross-grained obstinacy. 

When Pythias reached the farm on his im- 
portant errand, he found Calanthe waiting 
for him at the low wall which separated the 
domain from the highway. 

Her face was pale, and she evidently had 
but little hope that Pythias’ mission would 
meet with a successful issue, but it was with 
unfaltering accents that she greeted her lover 
and promised to wait for him at the stone 
gateway to hear the result. 

The interview between Myron and the 
young soldier was short and stormy, or rather 
it was stormy on the part of the former, for 
Pythias remembered that it was the father of 
the woman he loved who was addressing him, 
and he carefully refrained from all violent 
words. It was no easy thing, however, for the 
impetuous young soldier to keep his temper 
when he found his suit rejected, not only per- 
emptorily, but with scorn. When he pleaded 
that Calanthe loved him, he was met with a 
torrent of abuse. He listened for some mo- 
ments in silence, and then turned on his heel 
and left the old man in the midst of his fury 
and rage. But silence, in this case, meant 


80 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


anything but abdication. If Calanthe were 
but true to him, and of this he had no doubt, 
he would win and wear her yet, in spite of all 
parental opposition. 

It needed but one glance into Pythias' face 
to tell Calanthe what the result had been. 
But she was prepared for it, as she knew too 
well her father’s ambitious plans for her to 
have expected anything else. She listened 
quietly to Pythias’ stor}^', and when he had 
finished, she raised her beautiful arms and 
laid them about his neck. The action was 
simple and unaffected, with neither boldness 
nor mock modesty. Hers was a heart to keep 
always its first ardor; she had given herself 
once and forever, and she was his to do with 
as he pleased. 

“ My beloved,” she said, in clear, firm tones, 
be not downhearted. Damon is right ; we 
can afford to wait. I am yours now, and 
shall be yours to eternity. Trust me, my 
Pythias.” 

The tears that rose involuntarily in the 
young soldier’s eyes were no disgrace to his 
manhood, as he strained the girl to his throb- 
bing heart. 

‘‘ Trust you ! ” he murmured. “ So long as 
the gods endure ! ” 

The strident voice of the old man calling 
for his daughter startled them and forced a 
hasty parting. Calanthe, with swift step, hur- 


EROS AND ANTEROS. 


81 


ried toward the house, while Pythias, full of 
hope in spite of the rebuff he had received, 
started along the white road which led to the 
Gate of the Dioscuri. He had not proceeded 
far, in fact, had not reached the end of the 
wall which marked Myron’s estate, when he 
was obliged to step aside to allow the passage 
of a sumptuous litter surrounded by a retinue 
of slaves. From its colors he recognized it as 
that of Marcus, evidently on the way to the 
farm. 

Pythias smiled a little scornfully, and, in 
proud confidence, with head erect, continued 
on his way to the city. 

Marcus, on his part, had caught sight of 
the young soldier through an opening in the 
silken curtains in the litter, and formed a 
pretty shrewd guess as to where he had been. 
His little red eyes gleamed with an evil light 
as he muttered a smothered curse, and clenched 
liis puffy hands in impotent anger. 

Meanwhile, Calanthe had gained the house, 
and found her father pacing up and down the 
hall like a caged tiger. He turned angrily 
toward her as she entered, but at sight of her 
pure, proud beauty his paternal affection as- 
serted itself, and the inflamed words with 
which he was about to greet her died away 
upon his lips. 

‘‘Well, girl,” he said, sullenly, “what 
means this absurdity I have just been forced 
to listen to? ” 


82 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


It is no absurdity, father. It is my dearest 
wish to become the wife of Pythias.” 

What madness ! And why ? And why ? ” 

'‘Because I love him, father,” was the quiet 
answer. 

“ Love ! Love ! ” thundered the old man, 
his anger asserting itself again. “ The reason 
of a child. Will love furnish a house, give 
you jewels, slaves, dainty food and costly 
wines? ” 

“ It would give me happiness, father, and I 
care for naught else.” 

Myron paused in his nervous stride, and 
surveyed his daughter from head to foot. 

“ Now, by all the gods of high Olympus,” 
he exclaimed, “ to what a pass have the youth 
of this age arrived ! This girl who might 
marry any one, any one in yonder city of 
Syracuse, would, forsooth, throw herself away 
on a penniless adventurer.” 

At this Calanthe^s violet eyes flashed fire. 
Slights to herself she cared little for, but a 
slur at the man to whom she had given her 
heart touched her to the quick. When we 
love, our vulnerable places are doubled. 

“ He is no adventurer,” she cried passion- 
ately, “but an honorable soldier. I forbid 
you to speak of him as an adventurer ! ” 

Myron was too astounded to answer. Never 
before had Calanthe spoken to him like this. 
Could this be his gentle daughter, this girl 
who faced him like an enraged goddess ? 


EROS AND ANTEROS. 


83 


Before he could recover himself, a slave 
entered and announced the arrival of the 
most noble Marcus. 

Calanthe was about to retire, but in a tone 
of entreaty rather than of command, her fa- 
ther requested her to remain. 

‘‘ Here is a senator worthy of your consid- 
eration,'’ he added. 

Calanthe's lip curled, but she made no 
reply. 

Marcus entered the hall alone, leaving his 
retinue outside. His ponderous person was 
gorgeously attired in robes of scarlet and 
gold, and his thick, stubby fingers were loaded 
with rings of flashing stones. 

As his eyes fell upon Calanthe, who, in her 
pale blue draperies, with her golden hair in a 
simple knot, and the flush of indignation still 
dyeing her fair cheek, looked surpassingly 
lovely, an expression of hideous longing and 
desire appeared upon his coarse features. So 
might a satyr have leered through the bushes 
at some passing wood-nymph. Calanthe's 
soul revolted within her, and it was with 
difficulty that she repressed her disgust suffi- 
ciently to make some brief reply to the florid 
compliment with which he greeted her. 

The desire of the flesh and the love of the 
soul are two manifestations of the same force, 
but what a gulf is between them ! The one 
is met only in brutes, the other is worthy of 
the angels. 


84 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


‘‘You are welcome, worthy Marcus/’ said 
Myron, “ to my humble abode.” 

“ Nay, Myron,” replied Marcus, with an af- 
fected manner intended to be courtly, “ no 
abode can be humble that contains such a 
jewel.” 

Myron looked at his daughter, but she made 
no answer. Angered at her contumacy, he 
was forced to reply himself. 

“Whatever Marcus admires attains addi- 
tional lustre.” 

“I would the object of my admiration 
thought likewise. Admiration, did I say? 
Nay, a stronger word would be more fitting. 
Might I say adoration? ” 

And he advanced with a heavy step, and 
with a grin upon his coarse lips, toward the 
girl to whom he professed devotion. 

Calanthe’s compressed lips and hashing 
eyes should have deterred him, but, in his 
supreme self-conceit, he rushed fatuously upon 
his fate. 

Sinking, or flopping perhaps would be the 
better word, upon his knees, he attempted to 
seize Calanthe’s hand, but she retreated a step 
or two beyond his reach. 

Myron, wiser than he, would have prevent- 
ed the impending declaration could he have 
done so, but he realized that it was too late 
and there was nothing to do save to accept the 
inevitable. 


EROS AND ANTEllOS. 


85 


Fairest of all maidens/’ began Marcus 
in his most mellifluous accents, ‘‘behold 
me a suppliant at your feet. Deign to ac- 
cept my hand, and no woman in Syracuse 
shall be more gloriously apparelled than you. 
I am rich, very rich, and your fate shall be 
one to be envied by the gods themselves.” 

He paused for a reply and the smirk upon 
his face showed that he had but little fear of 
its tenor. That any woman should refuse 
what he had to offer of wealth and position 
seemed to him beyond the bounds of reason. 

Old Myron, as he stood silently by and 
noted the stately beauty of his daughter and 
the almost grotesque appearance of her suitor, 
felt, perhaps for the first time, the utter in- 
congruousness of such a union, and something 
like a pang of compunction smote him. 

As Marcus finished, Calanthe was silent for 
a moment, and then, drawing her draperies 
away as if fearful of contamination, her 
answer came, clear, decided, clean-cut : 

“ I scorn your wealth as I loathe yourself! ” 

Marcus looked up at her blankly as if he 
could scarcely credit the evidence of his ears. 
Then, as the full realization of her words 
dawned upon him, he struggled to regain his 
feet, but his anger and the unwieldiness of his 
figure combined prevented the accomplish- 
ment of his purpose. He floundered helplessly 
about, and Myron had to come to his aid and 
assist him to rise. 


86 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Myron had a keen sense of the ridiculous, 
and that moment sounded the death-knell of 
Marcus^ hopes, so far as any assistance from 
his desired father-in-law was to be looked for. 
His wealth had lost its glamour and he ap- 
peared to the eyes of the old man in his true 
light — a ridiculous egotist and a contemptible 
sensualist. 

As he finally gained his feet, he was purple 
with rage and he gnawed his thick under-lip 
viciously. 

'' What ! ” he hissed. Such words to me ! 
You dare, you, you — ” 

His rage choked him, but, so far as Calanthe 
was concerned, it was of no importance 
whether he continued or not. She had al- 
ready vanished from the room. 

Then Marcus turned the torrent of his in- 
dignation upon Myron. 

‘‘ Your daughter has insulted me,’’ he ex- 
claimed, with a gulp. What, she refuse me 
— me — a patrician of wealth — the president 
of the Senate — me, whom the proudest ladies 
of Syracuse would be glad to take as a mate. 
And she a poor farmer’s daughter, forsooth. 
You have deceived me, Myron, and by Pollux, 
both you and she shall suffer for it ! You shall 
yet learn that I am not a man to be imposed 
upon with impunity ! ” 

Strange to say, as Marcus’ fury increased 
and grew more and more ungovernable, Myron 
became calmer and calmer. 


EROS AND ANTEROS. 


87 


You are her father. Have you no influ- 
ence over her?^’ proceeded Marcus, vehe- 
mently. 

Win her if you can/^ replied Myron calm- 
ly, ‘‘ I cannot force her inclinations. 

I understand the reason of all this. That 
miserable Pythias is at the bottom of it, that 
soldier with the girFs face, the friend of the 
scoundrelly Pythagorean. But I will be re- 
venged upon him, upon her, upon you ! You 
shall rue the day, old man, that you allowed 
this slight to be put upon me. I have the 
power and will use it ! 

Myron was not the man to bear such words 
as these from any one, no matter how high 
his position, how vast his riches. Controlling 
his temper with wonderful success for one of so 
irascible a nature, he crossed the room with a 
dignifled step and threw open the door. 

Then, with a gesture sufficiently indicative 
of his wishes, he said, quietly, and yet with a 
ring of contempt : 

“ I must request, most worthy Marcus, that 
you relieve my humble roof of your noble 
presence. The language you have seen fit to 
use is not such as should be addressed by one 
free citizen to another. Permit me to add, 
moreover, that your threats fall upon careless 
ears.^’ 

Marcus glared at him, but discretion whis- 
pered to him that it would be better to retreat 
than to indulge in further vituperation. 


88 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


With a muttered imprecation, devoting the 
house and all its contents to the infernal gods, 
he rolled his huge body into the open air and 
hurled himself into the litter. 

All the way back to the city he was revolv- 
ing plans of vengeance. His self-conceit had 
received a heavy blow, and to a man of his 
nature no wound could be deeper. Wrapped 
up in himself, he recognized nothing, knew 
nothing beyond the narrow circle of his own 
interests and passions. The man whose con- 
duct is ruled by selfishness is deprived of all 
sight of the best in this world, as he who 
watches each step he makes knows nothing of 
the glory of the heavens. 

That night Marcus conceived a design dia- 
bolical enough to rejoice the dark soul of 
Pluto, who himself had once carried to a suc- 
cessful issue a plot of much the same nature. 

He summoned to his presence four of his 
most powerful and trustworthy slaves, and, 
with promises of reward, gave them careful 
and explicit instructions. 

It was with a self-satisfied smile and a feel- 
ing of content in his soul that he retired to 
his luxurious couch to enjoy that calm and 
peaceful sleep which, all maxims to the con- 
trary, is not the prerogative of virtue. 

It was toward sunset, and Calanthe was 
wandering aimlessly about the garden at the 


EKOS AND ANTEROS. 


89 


back of her father’s house. It was a large 
straggling garden, with a high hedge on one 
side and on the other a narrow lane, beyond 
which sparkled the blue waters of the lesser 
harbor. 

To the girl’s dreamy eyes, the world looked 
very beautiful that night. Since the inter- 
view with Marcus the day before, her father 
had seemed to be much softened and had 
treated her with what in him was extraordi- 
nary tenderness. Whether he would ever 
consent to give her to Pythias or not was a 
question, but she was confident that he would 
never again urge the claims of his disagree- 
able rival. With a tender smile upon her lips 
and absorbed in happy contemplation of the 
future, she strolled out into the lane and on 
to where a small grove of ilex trees reared 
their graceful heads. Here she paused, and, 
leaning against one of the trunks, she watched 
the movements of the vessels in the harbor 
beyond. It was all so calm and peaceful, it 
seemed impossible that any danger could be 
lurking near, but closer and closer it was 
creeping upon the unconscious girl. The 
sharp crackling of twigs, as if at the passage 
of some heavy body, startled her from her 
revery, but before she could move or cry out 
she was seized in a powerful grasp and a 
heavy mantle thrown over her head, effectu- 
ally stifling any sound from her lips. Stunned 


90 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


with bewilderment, she felt some one fasten- 
ing her hands behind her back, and then she 
was lifted like a feather, and after being borne 
a short distance, was placed in what was evi- 
dently a litter. Half dead with fright, she 
was borne along during what seemed to her 
an interminable length of time, and then the 
motion of the vehicle stopped. She was 
lifted out in the same strong arms and carried 
up a flight of steps. Then she was released, 
her hands untied, and the mantle removed 
from her head. For a moment everything 
danced before her eyes, but as vision returned 
to her, she saw that she was in a room of 
small dimensions. Opposite to her stood two 
gigantic black slaves, and a sturdy woman of 
middle age with an evil cast of countenance, 
and beyond, in malignant triumph, leered the 
hated face of her rejected suitor, Marcus. 

As she met the gleeful gaze of his little eyes, 
her heart contracted with an overpowering 
terror. Then, with a tremendous effort of 
the will, she recovered her self-possession, and 
there was no tremor in her voice as she de- 
manded the reason of the outrage to which 
she had been subjected. 

Marcus made a sign and the two black 
slaves departed, leaving, however, the woman 
behind. 

“ The reason ! echoed Marcus, with a jeer- 
ing laugh. '' Can you not guess? My pretty 


EltOS AND ANTEItOS. 91 

maid, you scorned me yesterday, but you shall 
yet be my wife by fair means or foul/' 

Calanthe cast a quick glance about her. 
Before the door stood the woman, with her 
massive arms folded across her chest. There 
was no possibility of escape in that direction, 
but there was a broad, low window in the 
room, and to that, fleet as a bird, Calanthe 
flew, before either of the others could divine 
her intention. 

Beneath was a narrow street, and on the 
other side, just opposite the window, an eld- 
erly man was slowly walking along, support- 
ing himself with a staff*. 

Calanthe screamed to him for help, and he 
stopped and looked up to where she stood. 
She recognized the face of Damocles, whom she 
knew slightly, but before she could utter an- 
other word she was dragged violently back, 
and found herself held firmly in the grasp of 
the vicious-faced woman. 

Marcus laughed aloud. 

“ Oh, no," he said, “ the bird cannot escape 
so easily. The cage is too strong. I will 
leave you now. A night's reflection may 
make you more tractile. Farewell for a 
time, my bride that is to be. Watch her care- 
fully, Sosia, I hold you responsible for her 
safety." 

Calanthe was silent, trembling with horror 
and dread, and in another moment she found 


92 


A TEUE ENIGHT. 


herself alone with her jailer, any appeal to 
whom, she felt instinctively, would be fruit- 
less. 

Her one hope was that Damocles had recog- 
nized her, as indeed he had, and the old man^s 
first impulse was to enter the house, which he 
knew to be that of Marcus', and discover what 
her presence there might mean. But a mo- 
ment's reflection convinced him that he could 
effect nothing, and, moreover, he had for 
years made it a rule not to interfere with 
what was not his own concern. So, with a 
shrug of his shoulders, he continued his way, 
not, however, without some inward qualms 
of conscience. 


CHAPTER V. 

PALMAM, QUI MERUIT, PERAt! 

A ll Syracuse was astir ! To-day was the 
opening of the amphitheatre, and all the 
streets and bridges of the city were crowded 
with clamorous, jostling throngs converging 
toward the place where glistened in the 
bright sunshine the white circular walls of the 
new place of amusement. It was a crowd, bent 
on pleasure and good-natured in the main, 
although there was an occasional black look 
at the too rough blows from the staffs of slaves 
forcing a way for the passage of the litter of 
some noble senator or patrician lady. High 
and low were equally excited over the great 
event, and the city presented a scene full of 
gaiety, movement and color. On all lips 
were praises of Dionysius, whose plethoric 
purse had not only contributed largely to the 
erection of the amphitheatre, but had fur- 
nished all the prizes to be contended for that 
day. 

Within the huge building the scene was 
brilliant in the extreme. The enormous en- 


94 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


closure, with its four tiers one above the other, 
capable of seating two-thirds of the entire 
populace, was rapidly filling, and the buzz of 
thousands of voices was like that of some 
enormous hive of bees. The fenced-in spaces, 
something like the boxes of our modern thea- 
tres and which were reserved for prominent 
citizens, were gorgeously decorated; the bril- 
liant dresses formed an ever-shifting kaleido- 
scope of all the colors of the spectrum, and 
over all the huge purple awning cast a soft 
glow like that of a radiant sunset. 

Marcus, who, from his position as president 
of the Senate, was director of the games, was 
already in his place, lolling back on the soft 
cushions. 

Damon, from his seat on the sca^rlet-covered 
benches allotted to the senators, surveyed 
with an absent glance the fluttering, chatter- 
ing mass of human beings, as they moved 
hither and thither in a desire to obtain the 
best places. Feeling as he did that a crisis in 
the affairs of his beloved country was close at 
hand, his heart was not attuned to the merri- 
ment about him. He was present more to 
please Lucullus than for any other reason. 
The lad had begged his former master to 
come, declaring that it would give him confi- 
dence, and Damon, who, no matter what his 
own anxieties might be, was ever 'ready to do 
a kindness, could not find it in his heart to 
refuse. 


PALMAM, QUI MERUIT, FERAT. 95 

'' A truly magnificent sight, this,’^ observed 
old Damocles, who sat next him. 

There was a certain friendship existing be- 
tween Damon and Damocles, in spite of the 
fact that they belonged to opposing factions. 
Damocles had a great respect for Damon’s 
character and abilities, and Damon, on his 
part, admired the old man’s blunt frankness 
and unswerving honesty, however much he 
might deplore his political convictions. 

Yes, magnificent indeed.” 

It is claimed that throughout all the Hel- 
lene possessions there is no finer amphitheatre 
than this.” 

“ That is probably true.” 

''All honor to Dionysius to whom this 
glory to the city is due. He has ever the 
welfare and happiness of the people at heart.” 

Damon knew well that this remark was 
made to draw him into a discussion but he 
had no desire to enter into an argument with 
the opinionated old man. Past experience 
had taught its futility. 

So he contented himself with a simple nod 
for all response. 

" Look at Marcus where he sits in all the 
pride of his new-found dignities,” continued 
Damocles in his most sarcastic manner, " he 
plumes himself as if they were due to his own 
merits. But he had best beware. The bird 
which is always shaking its wings loses many 
of its feathers.” 


96 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


If you have so poor an opinion of him, 
why did you vote to invest him with those 
dignities ? 

Questions of policy, my friend, questions 
of policy. Besides, I care but little for the 
puppet. I am interested in the hand that 
pulls the strings and makes the figure dance 
as he wills. 

And Damocles laughed as he thought of 
Marcus, with his mass of flesh, dancing. 

Dionysius?” 

“ Yes. May the gods speed the day that 
makes him the master of this city in name 
and in fact ! ” 

Damon^s brow grew dark. 

“ May the gods avert forever so terrible a 
calamity ! ” he replied gravely. 

Tush, man ! What matters what the form 
of government is or who is at the head. You 
prefer a democracy and I an aristocracy. Who 
can say which is best? All governments are 
good so long as they are honest. To be sure,” 
he added, reflectively, “most governments 
have an origin which prevents their being 
honest. But enough of all this. We came 
here for pleasure, not for business. Have you 
not an ex-slave in the running race ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Will he win?” 

“No one can tell that. I hope it.” 

“ I have wagered a little upon him, as much 


PALMAM, QUI MERUIT, PERAT. 97 

as my slender resources will afford. He runs 
for love as well as for glory. Have you heard 
that Dionysius has promised to free his sweet- 
heart should the boy win ? ” 

Yes. Lucullus has told me. Dionysius is 
never lacking in generosity.’’ 

Damocles gazed at his companion in some 
surprise at these words of praise. It is the 
most difficult thing in the world to admire 
the good our enemies do, but Damon was too 
lofty-minded not to give each man what he 
believed to be his just due. 

“This man is on the losing side,” thought 
Damocles, “ but what a pity he should not be 
with us. He would be a tower of strength as 
one of the councillors of the new king.” 

His reflections were interrupted by a burst 
of applause from the vast assemblage. Dion- 
ysius, with Alithea, and a numerous retinue, 
had just appeared. His dress, as well as those 
of his followers, was magnificent, and his 
whole appearance and demeanour were those 
of one worthy to lead men, as he stood ac- 
knowledging the plaudits of the multitude. 

Damon felt disconsolate as to the future as 
he saw the enthusiasm with which the great 
general was greeted. 

“How far will they be led in their blind- 
ness?” he thought. “Can the people be 
checked in their folly or will they rush head- 
long upon destruction ? ” 


98 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


When Dionysius and his party were seated, 
there was a loud blare of trumpets, and Mar- 
cus rose to declare the amphitheatre formally 
opened. His speech was short but a master- 
piece of diplomacy. Needless to say, it had 
been carefully prepared for him and was not 
of his own composition. From beginning to 
end it was an artful, though veiled, eulogy of 
Dionysius, who, in bestowing so great a gift 
upon the city, had shown his love and solici- 
tude for his countrymen. 

Damocles listened attentively, a smile of 
mingled satire and appreciation upon his thin 
lips. When Marcus had finished, the old 
man, moved by a sudden impulse, turned to 
Damon and said in a voice pregnant with 
meaning : 

Forget not what I am about to say to you, 
my friend. A lamb has been lost and it is in 
the den of the wolf. The wolf is Marcus, and 
the lamb is — ” 

“Well,'' exclaimed Damon, strongly im- 
pressed by the other's manner, and presaging 
he knew not what misfortune. “Well, the 
lamb is — ? " 

“ Discover if you can," replied Damocles, 
shortly. “ But, when the knowledge comes 
to you, remember my words. I have no more 
to say." And, turning abruptly away from 
Damon, who could find no clue to the enigma, 
he began conversing with his neighbor on the 
other side. 


PALMAM, Qtri MERUIT, FERAT. 99 

The sports were about to commence. The 
order of exercises was based* upon that of the 
Olympic games, with one or two important 
differences, however. Instead of in the open 
sward, the various trials were to take place in 
an arena, and women were allowed to witness 
them, while at Olympia, no woman, save the 
priestesses of Demeter, was permitted to be 
present, under penalty of death. 

A blare of trumpets resounded through the 
amphitheatre and hushed for the moment the 
Babel of voices, and all necks were craned 
toward where curtains of blue and scarlet 
were hung before an archway. The hangings 
were drawn aside, and from between the mar- 
ble columns issued the procession of the con- 
testants. 

First came a score of black slaves, bearing 
the prizes to be struggled for : Wreaths of bay 
and olive twigs, sprays of palm, the meed of 
the victor in each contest, richly embroidered 
scarfs, belts with jewelled clasps, shining hel- 
mets and coats of mail, tripods and bowls of 
gold and silver wrought with intricate de- 
signs. 

Following the slaves, two by two, all 
dressed alike in long yellow shirts and leather 
sandals with straps crossed about the leg near- 
ly to the knee, came those who were to ex- 
hibit their prowess in the various tests of en- 
durance and skill: the archers, the boxers. 


100 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


the runners, the wrestlers, the quoit-throwers, 
and the orators who were to recite the poems 
composed for the occasion. 

Twice, to the sound of martial music, they 
marched about the arena. 

The hubbub among the spectators broke 
forth again, each man vaunting the merits of 
his favorite. Offers and acceptances of wagers 
were yelled from one to the other, and the 
noise was so great that it almost drowned the 
music. 

The procession disappeared within the arch- 
way and the curtains were again lowered. 
The slaves piled the prizes in an enclosed 
space which had been prepared to receive 
them, and the judges, ten in number, took 
their places in Marcus^ box. 

The first trial was to be that of the archers. 
A lofty pole was erected in the center of the 
arena, to the top of which a dove was at- 
tached by a stout string, some ten feet in 
length. Again the trumpets sounded and the 
archers marched into sight and took their 
station at one end of the arena. Each wore 
upon his breast a knot of ribbon, and on the 
various colors the bets were made. 

The signal was given, and the first archer 
stepped forward a pace or two and bent his 
bow. The shaft flew through the air, but 
wide of its mark, and the young man re- 
treated shamefacedly to the derisive laughter 


PALMAM, Qtil MERUIT, FERAT. 101 

of the spectators. The second competitor 
fared but little better, but the dart of the 
third stuck fast in the center of the pole not 
far from the top. The fourth took long and 
careful aim and cut the string which held the 
dove bound. The bird, with flapping wings, 
sailed away. A shout went up, to be followed 
by a still more enthusiastic one, for the fifth 
marksman, quick as lightning, had sped his 
shaft, and the dove, pierced to the heart, fell 
headlong to the ground with the weapon still 
fixed in its side. 

The prizes were awarded, a silver bowl and 
a palm-branch to the one who had killed the 
bird, and a magnificently decorated quiver to 
him who set it free. 

The pole was removed, and now came an 
exhibition of quoit-throwing, in which there 
were a large number of contestants, and then 
the wrestling match, won by a giant Roman, 
who had already carried away the prize in the 
Olympic Games, and against whom none of 
the others had any chance. 

The first part of the show was now ended, 
and the interval that ensued was spent in dis- 
cussion of what had passed and speculation as 
to what was to come. Fruit venders plied a 
thriving trade, and slaves pushed their way 
through the crowd, bearing greetings from 
their masters to their friends. 

There was one in that vast crowd to whom 


102 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


there had been but little interest in what had 
already taken place. Poor Daphne was en- 
tirely unstrung, and she received a sharp 
rebuke from her mistress for the awkwardness 
with which she discharged the services she was 
called upon to perform. She longed for the 
running race to begin, and yet every moment 
of delay seemed a respite, even while it added 
to the agony of her suspense. 

The running race was an event of the great- 
est interest, for the fame of Eumolpus, the 
Athenian champion, had spread far and wide 
throughout the Hellene possessions. He was 
by far the favorite, and in fact it was the gen- 
eral concensus of opinion that no one of the 
others had the slimmest chance of beating him. 
As Daphne heard these ideas expressed by the 
nobles who flocked to greet Alithea during 
the intermission, her heart turned cold within 
her. Should Lucullus fail, what would life 
have in store for her? On his swiftness of 
foot depended the whole happiness of her ex- 
istence. She flxed her eyes upon the blue and 
scarlet curtains behind which he was, and 
longed to be there, to speak to him and hear 
encouraging words from his lips. 

Three blasts from the trumpet announced 
that the games were about to proceed, and the 
spectators settled down again in their places. 

The first number of the second part was the 
recital of the poems, for the best of which a 


PALMAM, QUI MERUIT, FERAT. 103 

wreath of golden laurel leaves was to be 
awarded. The names of the writers were 
supposed to be unknown.. In the hands of 
the judges, however, was a parchment, con- 
taining the titles of the poems with the names 
of the authors, which was to be consulted 
after the decision was reached. 

Six youths, clothed in white, and with gar- 
lands of flowers about their necks, advanced 
into the centre of the arena, to a point oppo- 
site to where the judges sat. 

At a nod from Marcus the recitals began. 
The poetic effusions were of various degrees 
of merit, the longest being a tragic poem, 
somewhat turgid and halting in its measure, 
descriptive of the death of Iphigenia. 

The majority of the audience did not take 
much interest in this part of the show, and 
were restless beneath the infliction. The poem 
that met with the warmest appreciation was a 
dainty little ode to Cupid. As the applause 
rang out, a young man with a delicate, intel- 
lectual face, seated to the right of the senators’ 
enclosure, clenched his hands tightly together 
and his face alternately flushed and paled 
with joy. It was his crowning effort, into 
! which he had poured all that was best in. him 
of brain and heart. 

After the recitations were over, the judges 
consulted for a short interval, and then Mar- 
cus rose, and, commanding silence, announced 


104 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


that the successful poem was the one entitled 
The Death of Antigone. ’’ 

The poor young poet, whose “ Cupid ” was 
thus ignominiously passed over, sank back, 
his eyes suffused with tears. He had been so 
confi<ient of obtaining the prize, for in his own 
heart he knew that his effort was superior to 
any of the others ; but he was forced to learn 
the bitter lesson that merit alone is not 
sufficient to command success. Talent, genius 
even, is often unrecognized when luck, or to 
give it another name, influence, is wanting. 

The name of the successful competitor,’’ 
continued Marcus, unfolding the " roll of 
parchment he held in his hand, '' The name 
of the successful competitor is — Dionysius.” 

There was a moment of silence, and then, 
as Marcus advanced to Dionysius, who was 
only a few feet distant, and placed the golden 
wreath upon his head, the whole vast assem- 
blage, as if moved by one impulse, started to 
its feet, and cheer after cheer burst from a 
thousand throats. All were eager to do hom- 
age to the popular idol of the moment, and 
the enthusiasm was unbounded. 

To say that the result of the competition 
was a surprise to Dionysius would be a fabri- 
cation. He had long aspired to poetical 
glory, and the fact that his poems had been 
hissed in Rome had rankled deep in his soul. 
He was determined that on this occasion there 


PALM AM, QUI MERUIT, FERAT. 105 

should be no chance of failure, and he had 
caused it to be hinted to each one of the 
judges, who was the author of “ Iphigenia,’^ 
and these hints were accompanied by veiled 
promises of favors to come should the award 
be made with proper discernment. There has 
never been a time in the history of the world 
when bribery, open or covert, has not flour- 
ished. 

As the noise gradually subsided, Damocles, 
who had a shrewd suspicion of how the prize 
had been won, turned to Damon and re- 
marked : 

“ His star, you see, is in the ascendant. A 
successful man ! I would like to be in his 
position for a single hour ! 

A year or two later Damocles expressed to 
Dionysius himself a similar wish, but with 
consequences he little imagined. He was 
taken at his word and found himself at a 
table laden with everything that could delight 
the senses, fruits, flowers, perfumes, music, 
delicious viands, priceless wines, but with a 
sword suspended over his head, almost touch- 
ing it, and hanging by a single horse-hair. In 
this way did Dionysius show the condition in 
which those who are most envied are apt to 
live. Remembering the old man's many 
caustic speeches, he probably also took a 
malicious pleasure in his discomforture. 

Again the trumpets sounded, this time to 


106 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


usher in the boxing match. The two men 
who were pitted against each other appeared 
very evenly matched, both of gigantic frame, 
with tremendous breadth of shoulders, and 
with muscles that stood out in great solid 
bunches. 

The glove, or cxstus as it was called, was 
fitted to their hands, and a formidable arma- 
ment it was, from which the sluggers of 
to-day would shrink in horror. It consisted 
of a thong of bulks hide, with heavy weights 
of iron and lead sewed in it, and wound 
about the hand and arm as high as the elbow. 

One of the pugilists was a Syrian, named 
Phocion. The other, Evander, was a native of 
Syracuse, and, of course, the sympathies of his 
fellow-citizens were with him. 

The caesti adjusted, they stood facing Mar- 
cus, who gave the signal for the onslaught to 
begin. In an instant they wheeled around, 
and put themselves in an attitude of defence. 

The spectators, who had chattered and 
laughed during the reading of the poems, were 
now silent and breathless with attention. 

For a moment, the two men eyed each other, 
and then slowly began moving, now advanc- 
ing, now retreating, in an apparently aimless 
fashion. Suddenly, Evander’s arm shot out, 
but Phocion, avoiding the blow, slipped deftly 
aside and Evander's force was spent in the air. 
Quickly recovering himself, however, he 


PALMAM, QUI MERUIT, FERAT. 107 

struck again, and this time landed the blow 
full on Phocion^s chest. 

By Pollux ! cried Marcus, to Hermoc- 
rates, who was by his side, ^'a noble blow. 
Five to three on our Syracusan ! ” 

But hardly were the words out of his mouth 
when there was a crashing sound. The deadly 
csestus, hurled with unerring aim, and at a 
skillfully chosen moment, had been dashed 
with terrible force against Evander’s face. 
The giant^s arms fell, his head swayed to and 
fro, the clotted gore poured from his mouth, 
and in another moment he fell headlong upon 
the sand, a senseless mass of quivering flesh. . 

Habet ! Habet ! screamed the crowd, as 
Phocion advanced a step and raised his eyes 
to the judges. In their excitement, they for- 
got for the moment that their own champion 
had been worsted. 

Dionysius looked down at the yelling, fren- 
zied multitude with grave disapproval. ' This 
eager thirst for blood and keen enjoyment of 
a brutal exhibition were highly displeasing to 
him. He wished Syracuse to be a city which 
would honor the noble arts of Athens, rather 
than delight in , the base, gladiatorial enjoy- 
ments of Rome. 

The fallen champion was carried out of the 
ring by six slaves, and Phocion, the Syrian, 
received his palm branch, and a superb belt 
glittering with jewels. 


108 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Let US for a moment go behind the curtains, 
and see how Lucullus was faring, during the 
anxious waiting before it came his turn to 
take part in the games. 

In a large room, beneath the seats of the 
amphitheatre, the various contestants were 
gathered together. 

Evander had just been borne in, and, sur- 
rounded by his friends, was gradually regain- 
ing consciousness. 

In one corner of the enormous room stood 
Lucullus in close conversation with old Gelon, 
the trainer. 

The lad’s body was naked, save for a cinc- 
ture about the loins. Although his figure 
was delicately proportioned, the muscles of 
his legs and arms were hard and firm as iron. 
From the first, Gelon had taken a great inter- 
est in Lucullus, and he was anxious for more 
reasons than one to have him win. It would 
refiect great credit upon himself, if one of his 
pupils, a mere novice, should, in his • maiden 
race, wrest the laurels from the brow of the 
great Athenian champion. He by no means 
underestimated Eumolpus, but he believed 
that Lucullus was not without some chance of 
success, and he knew that, with the exception 
of the Athenian, there was not one of those 
who had entered the lists whom he could not 
outstrip. 

“Do not forget my instructions,” he said. 


PALMAM, QUI MERUIT, FERAT. 109 

“ Throw the weight of the body upon the 
toes, with all possible freedom of action from 
the hips. Keep your eyes before you, and 
take care not to swerve, or get out of stride. 
Do not overtax yourself at first. Save your- 
self for the last. DonT mind the others, but 
keep close behind Eumolpus, and pass him at 
the end, if you can. There is the trumpet. 
Forward, my boy, and may the great goddess, 
Fortune, be with you ! ’’ 

And, with an encouraging slap upon the 
shoulder, he pushed him toward the en- 
3 trance. 

I At first, the enormous multitude, rising tier 
upon tier, dazzled Lucullus, but before he had 
taken a dozen steps across the arena he was 
himself again, and as calm and self-possessed 
as if about to take a practice spin in Gelon’s. 
training school. 

The course was marked by a broad strip of 
white sand running about a foot from the in- 
ner side of the circle, and the race was to be 
six times around the course, starting and 
finishing point the same. 

There were six contestants, but among 
them all, Eumolpus was easily conspicuous by 
his superior height and . the superb swing of 
his stride as he walked across the arena to 
take his position in front of the judges. 

It is foolish to run the race,’’ thought Mar- 
cus, already fingering, in his mind, the sester- 


no 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


ces he would win from Dionysius. Without 
an effort, the Athenian will far outstrip them 
all.’’ 

I am afraid your boy has but little 
chance,” said Damocles to Damon, as he criti- 
cally surveyed the six runners. He looks 
too fragile to have much power of endurance.” 

Yes,” replied Damon, with a sigh, as he 
thought of Lucullus’ probable disappointment, 
‘‘ and Eumolpus’ experience will tell.” 

The contestants were now drawn up in line, 
ready to start. 

The proud, confident expression on the 
Athenian’s face showed that he, at least, had 
no doubt of the result. 

Lucullus gave one swift, upward glance to 
where Alithea sat, surrounded by her hand- 
maidens, and, as he caught sight of Daphne’s 
pale, sweet face, as it peered from behind her 
mistress, he smiled cheerily and hopefully. 
There was no answering gleam on her face, 
however ; she was absorbed by one great and 
deadly fear that he should fail. 

Marcus advanced to the front of the judges’ 
box, holding a blue scarf in his hand. 

Daphne caught her breath, and, unmindful 
of her mistress’ frown, bent eagerly forward. 

The silken token fell fluttering to the 
ground. The signal was given and they 
were off! 

Under the gaze of ten thousand pairs of 


PALM AM, QUI MERUIT, PERAT. Ill 

eyes they ran, like a pack of hounds, now 
one, now another a little in the lead. 

Twice around the course, thus bunched 
together, did they speed, apparently one as 
likely to win as another. Lucullus remem- 
bered Gelon^s advice and followed close be- 
hind Eumolpus, toe almost touching heel. 
The pace thus far had not been rapid, and he 
was not in the least breathed as they passed 
the judges the second time. 

Half-way round the course again and then 
Eumolpus suddenly forged ahead. A shout 
went up from the crowd, but in another mo- 
ment Lucullus was at the champion’s heels. 

On, on they went, faster and faster, Lucul- 
lus increasing his speed in proportion as the 
Athenian made greater efforts. He did not 
allow his antagonist to lengthen the distance 
between them, but kept about a foot in his 
rear. 

Three times round the ring ! 

Four times ! 

Four times and a half ! 

And now the rest were nowhere. Those 
two flying flgures were far and away in ad- 
vance. It was evident that the race lay 
between them. Was it possible that that 
stripling would beat Athen’s greatest runner? 

Lucullus’ heart gave one mighty thump 
against his ribs. Now was the time to show 
the stuff of which he was made. He increased 


112 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


his speed. Slowly, inch by inch, he gained. 
He was abreast of him ! And now, yes now, 
he had passed him ! He could feel his an- 
tagonist’s hot breath upon his neck. A wild 
shout went up from the multitude. The ex- 
citement was intense. 

Five times around, and Lucullus was three 
feet at least in the lead ! 

Eumolpus cursed in his heart this youth 
who he felt was his superior. He put forth 
redoubled efforts, but all to no purpose. The 
distance between them was unchanged. 

But suddenly Lucullus’ foot slipped. He 
had stepped in a small pool of blood where 
Evander had fallen. He lurched forward, and 
for a brief instant, it seemed as if he were 
about to fall headlong. 

A cry, in a girl’s high treble, rang out, a 
cry of anguish, a cry of despair ! 

It pierced Lucullus’ brain like the knell of 
his death-warrant. As a landscape is illu- 
mined by a flash of lightning, the whole 
hopeless future rose before him. 

In a moment he had recovered his footing, 
but in that fatal moment, his antagonist had 
passed him, and was now as much in the lead 
as he himself had been ten seconds before. 

Five and a half times around the course ! 
Lucullus set his teeth hard together and put 
forth all his strength. His feet barely 
touched the ground. The wind roared like a 


PALMAM, QUI MERUIT, FERAT. 113 

hurricane in his ears. He was scarce con- 
scious of breathing. All swam in a mist 
about him save the one flying flgure just in 
front. His whole brain was concentrated in 
one thought : He must win ! He would win ! 

Ha ! was he not gaining? Yes ! Yes ! Cour- 
age ! On ! On ! 

Now he is close upon his rival ! 

Now they are abreast ! 

There was a perfect hubbub of cries and 
shouts, but Lucullus heard them not. 
Eumolpus wins! ” 

Lucullus wins 1 
Eumolpus wins 1 

“ Lucullus 1 
Eumolpus I ” 

'' Lucullus 1 

Could he pass him? The boy’s strength was 
well nigh spent. Not twenty feet from the 
goal, and still they were side by side. 

Now or never I 

From his parched lips came the cry, or 
rather the scream of “ Daphne I ” And then, 
gathering himself together, with a mighty 
effort he hurled himself forward, and crossed 
the line, fully a foot ahead of his rival, the 
mighty champion of Athens 1 

The fight is fought I the victory won I 

Victoria! Victoria! Palmam, qui meruit^ 
ferat ! 


CHAPTER VI. 

DAMON TO THE RESCUE! 

Pythias was not among the spectators in the 
amphitheatre. His duties compelled him to 
be on guard at the citadel, where he had passed 
a most uncomfortable day. He had noticed 
for some time past a constraint in the manner 
of his brother officers toward him, and to-day 
this coolness was more marked than ever. 
They seemed to be in a state of suppressed ex- 
citement, and, if he approached a group, the 
conversation would suddenly cease and he 
was made distinctly to feel that he was an in- 
truder. It was entirely incomprehensible to 
him, and he became more and more irritated 
and harassed. 

As soon as his hours for service were over, 
about three o'clock in the afternoon, he left 
the citadel and hurried to the amphitheatre, 
hoping to find Damon and consult with him 
as to the meaning of his strange treatment. 
His pride forbade him to seek an explanation 
from any of his comrades. 

As he was hastening along the streets, 

114 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 


115 


which were devoid of their usual bustle and 
almost deserted, he saw advancing rapidly 
toward him the father of the girl who was 
ever present in his thoughts. 

Remembering his late unpleasant encounter 
with him, he would have avoided him, but the 
moment Myron perceived the young man he 
rushed toward him, motioning him furiously 
to stop. 

Villain ! ” was the cry that saluted Pythias’ 
astonished ears, when Myron was within 
speaking distance. ''Villain, I have found 
you at last I Give me back my daughter ! ” 
Not understanding the true import of the 
words, but supposing that they referred to the 
capturing of Calanthe’s heart, Pythias haught- 
ily motioned Myron to stand aside and let 
him pass. 

The gesture seemed to rouse the old man’s 
passion to fever heat. His wrinkled face was 
livid, and he shook with rage. 

"No!” he shrieked. "No! I have found 
you at last, and you shall not escape me now ! 
I am old, but, by Hercules, I will have my 
daughter, or your life shall pay the penalty ! ” 
And, before Pythias could guess his design 
or avoid the onslaught, he leaped upon him, 
with an agility astounding in one of his years, 
and fastened his hands with a suffocating 
clutch upon the soldier’s throat. 

Taken unawares as he was, Pythias was 


116 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


nearly overthrown by the shock, but, manag- 
ing to retain his equilibrium, he seized his 
assailant’s hands in a grip of steel. Myron 
was no match for his athletic young opponent, 
and he was forced to release his clasp. 

Forcing down the old man’s hands and still 
holding them firmly by the wrists, Pythias 
demanded sternly : 

‘^Are you mad, to make such an assault 
upon me in the public street? I am guilty of 
no offense to you.” 

No offense ! ” roared Myron. You have 
carried away my daughter, and now you say 
you are guilty of no offense. Where is she ? 
Return her to me ! ” 

It was Pythias’ turn now to tremble. 

Carried away your daughter ! ” he re- 
peated, tremulously. “ It is false ! Quick, 
what do you mean?” 

Yes, you have carried away my daughter ! 
She disappeared last night, and who but you 
can know her whereabouts? ” 

Calanthe disappeared ! ” murmured Pyth- 
ias, pale with fear. 

Tell me where she is,”, continued Myron, 
struggling to free himself, or I will appeal 
to the Senate and see if a free-born maiden 
can be enticed away from her father’s home 
with impunity.” 

Pythias released his hands, and said, earn- 
estly : 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 


117 


'‘By all the immortal gods, old man, I am 
innocent of all knowledge of what you speak. 
Tell me the circumstances at once, and to- 
gether we will seek for her.'^ 

Myron looked up into the young man^s 
face, and was half convinced that he had 
made a mistake. 

"Are you speaking the truth?” he asked, 
dubiously. 

" I swear it ! ” 

"Then, what can have become of her?” 

" She has disappeared from home, you say? ” 

" Yes ; no one has seen her since yesterday 
afternoon.” 

" Is she not at Damon^s ? ” 

" No. I went there to seek you, and they 
have not seen her for two days.” 

Half wild with fear at the thought of any 
misfortune having overtaken his beloved, 
Pythias plied the old man with questions, but 
without obtaining any light upon the mystery. 
It occurred to neither of them to suspect Mar- 
cus of having any hand in the affair, but to 
both father and lover came the same terrible 
thought: Had some accident befallen her? 
Was she now stretched hurt and helpless in 
the woods, or, worse still, lying lifeless beneath 
the waters of the Mediterranean? It was a 
thought that neither dared to put into words. 
But Pythias^ amazement and distress were so 
evident that Myron was forced to dismiss en- 
tirely the suspicions he had formed. 


118 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


“What can we do?'' asked the wretched 
father, in a helpless way, appealing in his des- 
perate anxiety to the man he had so lately 
treated with scorn and contumely. 

“We must find her, and without delay. 
Damon is at the amphitheatre. I was on the 
way to meet him. Let us seek him, ask his 
advice and enlist his aid. The games must be 
nearly over. Hasten, or we shall miss him." 

They hurried along in silence, each too oc- 
cupied with his own thoughts and forebodings 
to indulge in words. A common sorrow had 
brought these two men closer together than 
anything else could have accomplished. 

When they reached one of the entrances 
of the amphitheatre, Pythias said to Myron : 

“ Remain here. I will find Damon and re- 
turn immediately." 

He vanished within the huge building, and 
following a long, narrow corridor, he emerged 
into the vast circular apartment, flooded with 
light and crowded with its row upon row of 
absorbed spectators. 

A chariot race, the closing act of the per- 
formance, was in progress, and round and 
round the arena were dashing the horses, 
dragging the low chariots at a breakneck 
speed, and urged on with whip and voice by 
the excited charioteers. 

Pythias found near the entrance a slave, 
whom he recognized, and placing a piece of 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 


119 


money in his hand, charged him to seek out 
Damon upon the senators’ benches, and bid 
him come at once. 

“ Tell him,” he added, that it is I who 
have sent you, and that it is a matter of vital 
importance.” 

The slave vanished, making his way with 
difficulty amidst the crowd, and after what 
seemed an interminable length of time, re- 
appeared, followed by Damon. 

The latter hurried to his friend’s side, and 
asked anxiously the cause of the imperative 
summons. Pythias took him by the arm and 
led him to where Myron was waiting for 
them, relating as he did so what had hap- 
pened. 

Doubly troubled, both on Pythias’ account 
and for the sake of the fair young girl he had 
always been attached to, Damon at first was at 
a loss what to advise, when suddenly the 
words of old Damocles flashed into his mind : 
“ A lamb has been lost and it is in the den of 
the wolf The wolf is Marcus.” 

Could this afford an explanation of Calan- 
the’s disappearance ? 

Turning to Myron, whom they had now 
joined, he asked : 

Have you seen Marcus of late ? ” 

Yes,” replied the old man, after a pause of 
surprise at what seemed so irrelevant a ques- 
tion, '' he was at the farm two days ago.” 


120 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


“ Tell me what occurred. Nay, do not look 
so astounded. My request is not without a 
reason.” 

Thus adjured, Myron related the story of 
Marcus^ discomforture and subsequent rage. 
Damon listened attentively to each word, and, 
as the recital proceeded, he became convinced 
that he was upon the right track. 

Before Myron had finished, Pythias too began 
to have a glimmering of the truth, and the 
bare idea that Calanthe could be in the power 
of Marcus turned his cheek pale with wrath 
and terror. 

I know your thought, Damon,” he cried. 
'^That scoundrel has carried Calanthe away 
by force.” 

I fear it, indeed,” replied Damon, gravely. 

To his house ! ” exclaimed Myron, hoarse 
with passion. “To his house and demand 
our rights ! ” 

“ Yes,” added Pythias, no less excitedly, 
“ and without delay.” 

“Not so fast, my friends.” remonstrated 
Damon, calmly. “ Do nothing rashly. He 
does not know now that we suspect him, nor 
are we even certain that our surmises are cor- 
rect. Should we go to his house, he might 
and probably would deny that Calanthe was 
there or that he had aught to do with her dis- 
appearance. With his multitude of slaves at 
his back, we could not force our way in and 
institute a search.” 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 


121 


“ But/^ began Pythias, passionately, how 
can — ’’ 

One moment. If we take a false step, we 
may ruin all by our rashness. Once warned, 
what is to prevent the knave removing his 
prisoner, if indeed she be his prisoner, to 
some place where it will be almost impossible 
to discover her? No. Believe me, I have a 
better plan than yours.’’ 

“ What is it? Speak ! Do not keep us in sus- 
pense. There is no time to lose.” 

Damon hesitated a moment before replying. 

“ I would prefer not tell you at present of 
my plan. I shall not require your aid. In 
fact, to have you with me would be a 
hindrance rather than otherwise. If I suc- 
ceed, I shall place Calanthe in your arms, 
Myron, before nightfall. Will you trust me ? ” 
Have I ever failed to do so, Damon? ” re- 
plied Pythias, a little reluctantly. And then 
he added quickly, clasping his friend’s hand 
warmly, ^^you are wiser than I. Let your 
counsels prevail.” 

'' And you, Myron ? ” 

The old man was more difficult to persuade. 
To one of his impatient, irascible disposition, 
the most violent measures were the most 
agreeable, but he finally allowed himself to 
be overruled, and consented to allow Damon 
to try his plan, whatever it might be. 

The games were over, and the people. 


122 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


crowding out of the amphitheatre were flood- 
ing the streets. 

'^Return home, Myron, and you go with 
him, Pythias. In three hours I will join you 
there, and with good news, I hope.’^ 

They parted, and Damon, joining the 
crowd, proceeded slowly upward, through the 
Gates of the Sun to the Square of Apollo. 

Dionysius returned home from the games 
in a state of pleasurable excitement, content 
with the world and with himself He had 
been received with unbounded enthusiasm; 
his popularity with the masses had been 
proved ^eyond a question, and all things 
augured well for the success on the morrow 
of the masterstroke of his life. Should there 
be no mishap, in twenty-four hours he would 
be invested with the royal purple, and the 
crown of the kingdom of Syracuse would rest 
securely upon his head. The army would cer- 
tainly support him, and the populace also, 
should no unforeseen circumstance turn in 
another direction its fickle enthusiasm. As 
for the Senate — the chief one to be feared 
there was Damon, and Damon had his follow- 
ing, although it was not in the majority. 
Still, the plans for capturing the Senate had 
been most carefully laid, and Dionysius had 
but little doubt as to the result. 

It was little wonder, then, that he entered 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 


123 


his palace with a smiling face, and with a 
light step betook himself to his wife's apart- 
ments. Although he did not love her, he 
never failed to show the woman he had mar- 
ried the utmost deference. She, on her part, 
cared but little for the affection, but she 
would have resented bitterly any slight to her 
position. 

He found Alithea reclining upon a couch 
of silken cushions. Two slaves were fanning 
her with huge fans of peacock feathers. She 
looked bored and sullen, and she saluted her 
husband, as he entered, with a languid in- 
clination of the head. 

If Dionysius' appearance affected but slight- 
ly his wife, this was far from being the case 
with one of the slaves. She flushed and 
trembled, and in her agitation nearly dropped 
the fan she held, an awkwardness which called 
forth a frown and a muttered word of reproof 
from her mistress. 

But how could little Daphne have con- 
trolled her emotion, when she felt that the 
hour of her deliverance, so gloriously won by 
her lover, was at hand ? 

Dionysius bent and kissed the white hand 
extended to him. Then, after formal in- 
quiries as to how she had endured the fatigues 
of the day, he said, with studied nonchalance : 

Alithea, I have a favor to ask of you, or 
rather your cooperation in the fulfillment of 
a promise I have made." 


124 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


She made a slight movement of her eye- 
brows, but apparently did not consider it 
necessary to waste any energy in a reply. 

By the way,” continued Dionysius, I 
have won to-day a large sum upon Lucullus, 
the victor in the running race. Here is your 
share of it.” And he tossed into her lap a 
beautiful armlet of virgin gold, studded with 
precious stones. 

The beautiful, but usually inexpressive eyes 
lighted up with satisfaction. If anything 
could arouse to something approaching en- 
thusiasm the organ she called her heart, it 
was an article of personal adornment. Dion- 
ysius knew this well, and it was for this rea- 
son he had brought her the bracelet. He 
could have accomplished his purpose without 
it, but what need of a more or less unpleasant 
discussion, when a little expenditure, not in 
the least felt, could obviate such an annoy- 
ance. 

“Lucullus ran well,” he continued care- 
lessly, “ and he deserves all the rewards he 
has obtained, as well as those promised to 
him. Perhaps the best is that of the woman 
he claims to love.” 

Alithea glanced up at him with a look of 
inquiry. She was a past-mistress in the art of 
silence, for she rarely spoke unless forced to 
do so. Whether this was due to laziness or 
wisdom is a question, however. 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 


125 


'‘Yes,” proceeded Dionysius in explanation, 
"this little girl, here. Daphne, is that her 
name? is the prize I promised him should he 
succeed in winning for me the sums I had 
wagered. I am sorry to deprive you of your 
handmaiden, but my promise must be kept, 
must it not? ” 

A look of sullen obstinacy had been form- 
ing about Alithea’s mouth, but, as her eye fell 
upon the sparkling jewels she held in her 
hand, it faded away, and she said graciously 
enough : 

" Your promise must be kept, my lord.” 

Dionysius smiled, and, drawing from the 
folds of his robe a purse filled with gold 
pieces, he handed it to Daphne, saying : 

" Here is your dowry, my child, and with 
it receive your freedom.” 

The fan fell to the feet of the girl, and she 
received the purse with trembling hands. 
She tried to speak, but her emotion choked 
her. There was no mistaking, however, the 
look of gratitude in her dark eyes, glistening 
as they were with tears. 

Alithea frowned as she glanced at her. All 
display of emotion was repugnant to her stolid 
temperament. 

Before Daphne could recover her compos- 
ure, a slave announced that Damon was in the 
ante-room, waiting to see the master of the 
house. 


126 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


At this news, Dionysius felt no little sur- 
prise. What business could the grave Pytha- 
gorean have with him, especially at a time like 
this, when the two factions were at sword’s 
points? He ordered the slave, however, to 
conduct his guest to the apartment in which 
it was his wont to receive visitors, and he at 
once hastened there himself. 

“ You are welcome, Damon,” he said, cor- 
dially, as the senator was ushered into his 
presence, you are welcome beneath my roof” 

There were no traces upon the calm face to 
show what it had cost Damon to seek this in- 
terview. The looks of astonishment and the 
whispered comments, which his appearance 
had occasioned among the senators gathered 
together in the ante-room awaiting an audi- 
ence from Dionysius, had been gall and worm- 
wood to him. He entirely understood what 
construction was being placed upon his visit, 
but he did not flinch, for one second, from his 
purpose. It was to bring happiness to Pythias 
that he had come, and for Pythias he would 
have given his life. 

“ I thank you,” he said simply, in reply to 
the greeting of his host. And then, plunging 
at once into the subject which had brought 
him there, he continued : 

“ Most noble Dionysius, I have come to you 
that you might right a cruel wrong.” 

“ Any favor I can do for you, Damon, will 
give me pleasure.” 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 127 

This is no favor/’ replied the other, 
proudly, “but an act of justice.” 

“ Speak, Damon. I listen.” 

“ A free maiden of this our city of Syracuse 
has been abducted from her father’s house, 
and I have reason to believe is now held a 
captive.” 

“ An outrage, indeed ! Do you know the 
abductor ? ” 

“Not for a certainty, but I have every rea- 
son to believe that it is one intimately con- 
nected with you.” 

“ His name ! ” 

“ Marcus.” 

Dionysius started. 

“ Marcus ! Tell me all and without delay.” 

Thereupon, Damon related the circumstances 
as known to him, recounting Marcus’ visit to 
Myron, his proposal and rebuff, his vows of 
vengeance, and the subsequent disappearance 
of Calanthe. 

As he listened, Dionysius’ brow grew dark 
and the lines about his mouth deepened into 
an expression of stern determination. Al- 
though there was no absolute proof that Mar- 
cus was the offender, there was but little 
doubt in his own mind that such was the case. 
He was genuinely indignant, but, beyond that, 
his quick intelligence at once grasped the fact 
that here was an opportunity to render Da- 
mon, his chief political opponent, a signal 


128 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


service, and thus make him his debtor. Could 
Damon once be won over to his cause, or even 
be induced to withdraw his opposition, there 
was no longer any stumbling block in his own 
path to glory. Moved by a twofold consider- 
ation, a sense of outraged justice and his own 
interest, he was quick to respond in no unde- 
cided manner to Damon’s appeal. 

^‘You are right, most noble Damon,” he 
exclaimed, ^Hhis is a vile action, a cruel 
wrong, and, if it rests with me to right it, the 
atonement shall not be delayed. Marcus 
should be at this moment beneath this roof. 
I will send for him at once. Meanwhile, may 
I ask you to retire, until I have spoken to 
him? It is best for me to see him alone.” 

As he spoke, he raised a heavy hanging, re- 
vealing a small room beyond. Damon passed 
in, and the curtain fell behind him. For a 
moment, it flashed over Dionysius that here 
was his enemy in his power. He had but to 
hold him a prisoner for twenty-four hours, 
and the opposition in the Senate the next day 
would be insigniflcant. The thought was no 
sooner formulated, however, than it was dis- 
missed with scorn. 

Hastily summoning a slave, Dionysius com- 
manded him to admit Marcus to his presence. 

When the president of the Senate entered 
the room, he was evidently ill at his ease, and 
the glance cast at him by Dionysius was not 
calculated to restore his composure. 


DAMON TO THE KESCUE. 


129 

‘^Marcus/’ began Dionysius abruptly, with- 
out greeting or preamble. '' Marcus, where is 
the maiden, Calanthe?’^ 

Marcus, startled as he was, affected the ut- 
most surprise. 

“ I do not understand you, my lord.’’ 

Dionysius' lip curled scornfully. He knew 
his man too well to be deceived. 

I think you do," he said quietly. “ I ask 
you: Where is Calanthe?" 

Marcus at this assumed an expression of in- 
jured innocence. 

‘‘ I cannot answer, my lord, as to a matter of 
which I have no knowledge." 

Dionysius strode toward him, and, pausing 
directly in front of him, folded his arms and 
fixed his piercing eye full upon the flushed 
face of his companion. Marcus attempted to 
meet the gaze; but the attempt was a lamenta- 
ble failure. The weaker nature was entirely 
under the dominion of the stronger. 

Your knowledge of this matter is perfect. 
I demand an answer." 

My lord," began Marcus, with a desperate 
effort at the attainment of dignity, and resort- 
ing to bluster as a last expedient, My lord, 
by what right do you use such words to me ? 
I am no slave. You forget my position !" 

Dionysius at this laughed outright, a short, 
bitter, mocking laugh. 

Oh, no, I do not forget your position. I 


N 


130 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


remember it only too well. You are the 
most honorable president of the Senate. It is 
you who forget who raised you to that posi- 
tion, and that the same one may to-morrow 
demand your head ! ” 

These words struck terror to the heart of 
the craven. He recognized only too well the 
truth of them. Disliked and distrusted as he 
was by his associates, it was Dionysius and 
Dionysius alone to whom he owed his rise in 
fortune. Without him, he would sink into 
nothingness. 

Once more came the question, stern and 
pitiless : Where is Calanthe? 

There was no escape. No denial would 
avail. The truth must be confessed. 

“ At my house,” was the faltering reply. 

And you carried her there by force? ” 

‘^Yes.” 

For what purpose? ” 

The girl and her father had insulted me. 
I—-” 

‘^Were you mad?” thundered Dionysius, 
his rage and disgust obtaining the mastery. 
'‘Were you entirely bereft of your senses? 
Do you not see that an action like this might 
prove fatal to all our hopes ? Suppose it be- 
came rumored abroad that a free-born maiden 
had been forcibly taken from her home by the 
president of the Senate ! A direct attack thus 
made upon the most cherished liberties of the 


DAMON TO THE RESCUE. 


131 


people. Lesser sparks than that have started 
conflagrations that have swept kings from 
their thrones. President of the Senate, in- 
deed ! Prince of fools would be a more fitting 
title ! 

Marcus literally cowered beneath these 
scathing words. But, writhing though he 
was with anger and mortification, he did not 
dare to resent them. 

At the present critical moment of his affairs, 
there was not another of his followers whom 
Dionysius could thus have addressed with im- 
punity, but he knew that he held this man in 
the hollow of his hand, and that he would 
not dare to resent by word or deed anything 
that might be said to him. 

“ The girl must be restored,” he continued, 
in a lower but equally decided tone. 

The thought of foregoing his vengeance was 
bitter indeed to Marcus. Moreover, he was 
fatuous enough to believe that, with the girl 
in his power, he could compel her to accede 
to his wishes and become his wife. He, there- 
fore attempted to temporize. 

'' Give me but a week,” he pleaded. “ If at 
the end of that she is not subject to my will, 
her father shall receive her back again.” 

“ Not a day, not an hour,” was the deter- 
mined reply. “ Your house is near at hand. 
In half an hour, produce Calanthe here, or 
cease henceforth to be” — friend, he was about 


132 A TRUE KNIGHT. 

to say, but he could not bring his lips to frame 
the word — ^‘associate of mine.’’ 

Marcus was beaten and he realized it. He 
had no need to ask Dionysius whence he had 
obtained his information. He had observed 
Damon in the ante-room, and knew now that 
in some way the whereabouts of Calanthe had 
become known to the Pythagorean. He de- 
parted, therefore, on his mission, after prom- 
ising Dionysius that his command should be 
executed, with his bosom raging with malig- 
nant hatred against the man who had frus- 
trated his villainy. 

“My time will come,” he thought, “and 
then beware, Damon, and you, too, Pythias ! 
I shall not forget this day’s work.” 

As soon as Marcus had disappeared, Dion- 
ysius raised the arras, and requested Damon 
to return. 

“ I have succeeded,” he said, with a smile. 
“ You were right. Marcus was the man. In 
half an hour Calanthe will be here.” 

Damon uttered a sigh of relief, and, with 
heart-felt emotion, he thanked Dionysius for 
his kindness. 

Still smiling, Dionysius invited his guest to 
be seated, and then, with rare tact, he turned 
the conversation to philosophy, and so to the 
peculiar tenets held by the followers of Pyth- 
agoras. 

So far as he was permitted, Damon ex- 


DAMON TO THD EESCUE. 133 

plained the doctrines of the sect to which he 
belonged, and, in the discussion which fol- 
lowed, he was impressed by the intelligence 
and learning exhibited by Dionysius. The 
latter, on his part, was no less impressed by 
his companion, and, for the moment, he 
heartily regretted that force of circumstances 
should make such a man his enemy. 

The half hour passed rapidly away. Both 
had became so interested in the conversation 
that they were surprised when a slave entered, 
followed by Calanthe and Sosia, the woman 
who had been her jailer in Marcus^ house. 

The ivory pallor of her face and the dark 
rings beneath her eyes showed the tortures of 
mind the poor girl had suffered. 

When she saw Damon, she uttered a low, 
glad cry, and sprang to his side ; in another 
moment she was sobbing in his arms. 

Sosia, her mission accomplished, slipped 
away. 

Damon soothed Calanthe with tender and 
encouraging words, and, when she had some- 
what recovered her calmness, he prepared to 
take his departure. 

I wish,’' said Dionysius, as he conducted 
them to the door, and who could tell whether 
real feeling or diplomacy prompted the speech? 

I wish, Damon, that I could reckon you 
among my supporters.” 

Damon stopped short, and fixed his eyes 
full upon the other’s face. 


134 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


lord/^ he said, “ what I am about to 
say savors much of ingratitude, and yet I am 
not ungrateful. You have rendered a signal 
service to me, and those who are dear 
to me, a service I can never forget, a 
service which does you honor. I am your 
debtor, and, in the private affairs of life, yours 
to command. But, above all personal consid- 
erations, there is something higher and 
nobler — my country ! I suspect your ambi- 
tion, Dionysius — I shall thwart it, if I can. 
Thanks and farewell ! 

Dionysius made no response, but his face 
was pale and his lips were tightly compressed 
as he drew aside the curtain to allow Damon 
and Calanthe to pass. 


CHAPTER VII. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

S Damon and the girl he had rescued 



passed through the vestibule of Dion- 
ysius^ palace, they came face to face with 
Marcus, who was returning to take part in the 
conference appointed for that afternoon. 

Calanthe gave a little cry and clung more 
closely to her preserver's arm. Marcus' in- 
flamed countenance lost something of its 
scarlet hue, and he shrank against the wall as 
if he feared personal violence. But disdain is 
the only vengeance of noble souls, and Damon 
passed him by without a glance. The victim 
was saved and the fangs of the serpent 
drawn, so why soil his hands by touching the 
unclean reptile? 

After leaving the palace, Damon took 
Calanthe at once to her father's home. The 
girl was worn with the mental agonies through 
which she had passed, but the joy of escaping 
from her hated persecutor, gave her new life 
and strength. 

They found Pythias and Myron anxiously 


136 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


awaiting the result of Damon’s quest. No 
words can depict the joy with which his- re- 
turn with Calanthe was greeted. In his re- 
lief at the recovery of his daughter, Myron 
did not notice that she passed from his em- 
brace to the more passionate one of Pythias. 

When the excitement had subsided some- 
what, Calanthe related the story of her ab- 
duction, to the wrath and indignation of her 
hearers. 

Both Myron and Pythias were eager to visit 
upon Marcus the punishment his crime de- 
served. To bring him before the tribunals 
would ensure a heavy penalty, in spite of his 
high position, for the laws of Syracuse were 
very severe in regard to offenses against free- 
born women. But Damon was strongly op- 
posed to any such action. 

“No,” he said, “ that I cannot permit, nor 
any retaliation upon Marcus, miscreant though 
he is. Such a course would cast reflection 
upon Dionysius, to whose good offices we owe 
the return of this poor child. Marcus was his 
choice, you must remember, for president of 
the Senate, and to see that no opprobrium for 
his underling’s act is attached to Dionysius is 
the least we can do to show our appreciation 
of what he has done for us.” 

The other two finally allowed themselves to 
be overruled, and it was decided to take no 
steps in the matter, at least for the present. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 137 

But, Damon, said Myron, what can I 
do to evince my gratitude to you ? The half 
of my estate would be too little to repay the 
debt I owe you.’^ 

Damon smiled. 

‘‘ It would be far too much, and yet,’^ with 
a glance toward where Pythias and Calanthe 
stood, side by side, “there is a boon I would 
ask of you, greater even than that.’^ 

“ Speak, Damon, replied Myron, in some 
surprise. “ I hear but to obey.’’ 

“ Withdraw your opposition,” said Damon, 
after a pause. “ Make those two young lovers 
happy. Give Calanthe to Pythias.” 

The struggle in the old man’s heart was a 
hard one. It was difficult to give up his long- 
cherished hopes and ideas. But the events of 
the last few hours had greatly softened his 
natural obduracy, and his better nature finally 
triumphed. 

He took Calanthe’s hand and placed it in 
that of Pythias’. 

“ She is yours,” he said, a trifie gruffiy. 
“ Make her happier than her old father has 
done. You are better than Marcus, at all 
events.” 

The last obstacle to their union thus re- 
moved, the very gates of Elysium seemed to 
open before the enraptured loves. The griefs 
and anxieties of the past vanished, and the 
future smiled before them in a golden haze. 


138 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Two or three rays of sunshine more than com- 
pensate for a week of rain ; and so it is in 
life, the replica of nature, with its joys which 
cause its sorrows to be so quickly forgotten. 

In spite of the fact that his interview with 
Dionysius had been brought to a successful 
conclusion, and that, through his instrumen- 
tality, the happiness of his friend and the 
woman he loved was seemingly assured, Da- 
mon passed by no means a peaceful night, and 
he rose the next morning, his heart heavy 
Avith despondency. 

Although he was far from knowing the ex- 
tent of the intentions of the opposite party, or 
how carefully and completely its plans had 
been laid, he knew well that the present form 
of government was distasteful to it, and he 
also knew that it was Dionysius^ ambition 
ultimately to become sole ruler. He felt that 
to-day’s session of the Senate would be fraught 
with importance, but he did not anticipate 
that it would result in the immediate es- 
tablishment of the aristocratic party in power. 

Damon was fully convinced that only in a 
free country and under a democracy could a 
man’s best powers be developed. His love of 
country and his hatred of a tyranny were as 
much a part of his being as the blood in his 
veins. 

He was not blind, however, to the fact that 
his vieAVS did not prevail Avith the majority of 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 139 

the Senate, although there was a large por- 
tion of that body which held no fixed opinions 
and which could be swayed in one direction 
or another by a clever leader. These were the 
men whose patriotism he hoped successfully 
to appeal to, and, by so doing, gain at least a 
temporary victory. In those days as well as 
in ours, however, the straightforward methods 
of the honest statesman had but little chance 
against the wily strategy of the self-interested 
diplomate. 

The day which was destined to prove so 
eventful to the fair city of Syracuse dawned 
bright and beautiful. 

At an early hour, Damon, attended by Lu- 
cullus, prepared to leave his villa and go down 
into the city. 

When he returned home the previous eve- 
ning, Damon had found Lucullus there. The 
honest lad, although now a freeman and 
crowned with honors, had begged to remain 
in his beloved master’s service, and Damon, 
who was really attached to the boy, had con- 
sented only too gladly. 

Hermione, to whom Lucullus had told the 
whole story of his love for Daphne and of her 
liberation by Dionysius, agreed to find a place 
for the girl among her own household. 

It was to bring Daphne to the villa, there- 
fore, that Lucullus was going to the city with 
Damon. 


140 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


If the master was moody, the servant was 
in the highest of spirits, and bubbled over 
with chatter and laughter, as they descended 
the hill through the fragrant vineyards. 

Damon let the boy ramble on as he would. 
He had not the heart to check his exuber- 
ance. His philosophy was not of that depress- 
ing kind which commands the wearing of a 
solemn mask and considers innocent mirth as 
little less than a crime. 

The parting with Hermione had been a par- 
ticularly hard one. The devoted wife had 
clung to her husband as if loathe to let him go. 
So far as peril to herself was concerned she 
was the bravest of the brave, but when danger 
threatened the one who was dearer to her than 
her heart’s blood her courage failed her. 

Damon comforted her as best he could, tell- 
ing her that her fears had but little ground in 
fact. Nevertheless, his last words to her were: 

“ Remember your promise.” 

And she had replied sadly: 

I shall remember.” 

When they entered the city it seemed to 
Damon that there were evidences of more 
than usual excitement. Men were gathered 
together in little knots, discussing with eager 
gesticulation. One or two of the passers-by 
glanced curiously at the noble face and stately 
figure of the senator, who was well-known to 
his fellow-citizens, but none ventured to ad- 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 141 

dress him. As they reached the Bridge of 
Fortuna, which led to the island of Ortygia, 
Damon saw a soldier come hurrying toward 
him, and in another moment he recognized 
Pythias. As soon as his friend was near 
enough to perceive the expression of his face 
Damon knew at once that something of no 
common importance had occurred. He was 
flushed, and his whole appearance was that of 
a man laboring under great excitement. 

^^What is it?’’ cried Damon, as Pythias, 
panting for breath, reached his side. What 
has happened ? Speak !” 

I was on my way to meet you,” gasped 
Pythias. The gods be thanked for bringing 
you this way.” 

Well ? Your news !” 

“ Bad, my friend ! The worst imaginable ! 
The citadel has fallen without a hand raised in 
its defense.” 

Fallen ! ” 

It is in the hands of Dionysius.” 

For a moment Damon stood as if turned to 
a statue of stone. The news was so momen- 
tous, so fraught with fate that his brain re- 
fused to take it in in all its bearings. 

Damon! ” cried Pythias, alarmed at his 
friend’s stillness and rigidity. Rouse your- 
self, man I Do you not understand ? The 
citadel has fallen.” 

Damon started, like a man suddenly awak- 
ened from sleep. 


142 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


The citadel in DionysiusV hands ! he fal- 
tered, brokenly. This' is why the soldiers, 
then, were recalled from Agrigentum. I sus- 
pected some treachery — you remember, Pyth- 
ias, I spoke to you. I should have foreseen 
this and prevented it.’’ 

It was in the power of no man to do that,” 
said Pythias, sadly. “ The army, almost to a 
man, is his, and but slaves to his commands. 
I understand now the reserve with which I 
was treated by my comrades. They knew of 
this, and I was not admitted to their secrets.” 

No, you were my friend, the friend of 
Damon, their enemy.” 

The friend of Damon, the patriot, and 
prouder of that title than would I be of em- 
peror or king.” 

My Pythias ! the other half of myself! 
There, see, I am myself again I Tell me, how 
did this happen ? Oh, my country, the salt 
tears fill my eyes as I think of the abyss open- 
ing beneath thee 1 But, away with weakness. 
The time has come to act 1 Tell me, how was 
this foul act accomplished? ” 

In a few words Pythias related all that he 
knew. Early that morning the sentinels on 
guard admitted a large force of armed men, 
who had taken possession of the citadel in the 
name of Dionysius. Philistius was at their 
head. They met with no opposition, and the 
citadel, with all its arms and treasures, was 
now theirs. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 143 

It is rumored/' concluded Pythias, ‘‘ that 
it is the purpose to-day to crown Dionysius 
king in the Senate-house." 

^^King! Never, so long as Damon hath 
voice to uplift or arm to strike. I will oppose 
him though all the others bow in coward 
acquiescence to his will. I alone will brave 
the usurper to his face, even if ^tna vomit 
forth all its fires in his behalf. But look, by 
all the gods, his flag floats above the citadel ; 
his flag, and not the flag of Syracuse ! " 

And, his face ablaze with indignation, he 
pointed to where, on the other side of the 
stream, a standard was fluttering in the 
breeze above the frowning walls of the dark 
old fortress. 

Pythias looked, but said nothing. What 
words of comfort had he to offer to his 
friend ? In his opinion, the cause was already 
lost, and it was madness, worse than mad- 
ness, to oppose what the gods apparently had 
already decreed. But to tell Damon this 
would not turn him aside. His mind once 
made up as to the path it was his duty to 
pursue, and he was inflexible. 

Suddenly there sounded the tramp of feet 
upon the bridge near where they were stand- 
ing, and a body of twenty or more men ap- 
peared, coming from the citadel. They were 
led by an officer named Belos, of plebeian 
birth, but a devoted adherent of Dionysius. 


144 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Their arms were loaded with plunder, for it 
had been agreed among the conspirators that 
a certain portion of the city’s treasures should 
be divided among the soldiers. 

As Damon caught sight of them and real- 
ized what had occurred, he sprang to the end 
of the bridge and faced the despoilers. 

“ Slaves ! ” he cried, in a voice of thunder, 
“ what have you done ? ” 

Involuntarily the first ranks halted, and 
Belos angrily ordered Damon to stand aside. 

“ Not at your command ! As senator and 
guardian of this fair city, I demand once 
more, what have you done ? ” 

“ What have we done? ” retorted Belos, in- 
solently. Save that I know it will gall you, 
I would leave you to divine for yourself. 
Know, then, that we have taken possession of 
the citadel.” 

Aye, and filched it of its stores. Thieves ! 
worse than midnight marauders or highway 
brigands, for you rob your country ! ” 

“ For Dionysius ! ” came the cry from the 
soldiers in the rear. On for Dionysius I 
On ! 

“ Dionysius ! ” exclaimed Damon, scorn- 
fully. ‘‘ Aye, it is to him we owe this attack 
upon our liberties. You do well to make 
him your rallying-cry, you traitor hirelings of 
a traitor master.” 

At this Belos turned frantically to his fol- 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 145 

lowers : “ Do you hear him, soldiers ? he 

cried, choking with rage. “He calls our 
Dionysius traitor. Upon him, comrades ! 
Hew him to pieces ! ” 

But before hey could make a movement, 
Pythias, with drawn sword, was between 
them and his friend. Animated by the same 
spirit as Horatius at the bridge, and Leonidas 
at the pass of Thermopylae, he faced over- 
whelming numbers and dared them to the 
attack. 

“ Cowards ! he cried, passionately. “ Not 
one step , on your lives ! You all know me 
and this sword as well. You have seen us 
both amidst the Carthaginian hosts. Advance 
one step and you shall taste the sharp cold- 
ness of this steel in your quivering selves. 

Awed, as if young Mars himself had ap- 
peared before them, the soldiers paused. Even 
Belos stood irresolute. 

Lucullus, although without a weapon, had 
placed himself at Damon ^s side, determined to 
die, if needs be, in his master^s defence.^^ 

“ Cowards ! continued Pythias, rapidly, 
his eyes flashing Are. “ You thought to at- 
tack an unarmed man. But he is not un- 
armed ! I am his shield, his buckler, his 
sword, and, to reach him you must pass over 
my dead body. Why, Belos, you whom I 
know to be brave in battle, are you not 
ashamed, with a score at your back, to thus 


146 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


attack a single man? Shame upon you! I 
took you for a soldier.’^ 

Belos^ dark face flushed. He hesitated a 
moment, and then said sulkily : 

'' For your sake, Pythias, who have been 
my comrade-in-arms in many a hard-fought 
field, I spare this meddler. It is well for him 
hat he has you for a defender.’^ 

Pythias sheathed his sword, and turning to 
Damon, said in a low voice : 

Let them proceed on their way, Damon. 
You can accomplish nothing with these 
knaves. The master alone is worthy of your 
metal. 

You are right, my friend,’’ returned Da- 
mon, moodily. ^‘To destroy the tree one 
must strike at the root.” 

He moved aside, and Belos, with his band, 
passed on their way, shouting lustily for 
Dionysius. 

As they disappeared around the corner of 
an adjoining street, Damon turned to Lucul- 
lus. His face was pale, and his eyes were 
stern and determined. 

“ Lucullus,” he said, hastily, “listen care- 
fully to what I am about to say, and see that 
you follow exactly my instructions.” 

“ My lord has but to command,” replied the 
boy, earnestly. 

“ Return at once to the villa,” proceeded Da- 
mon. “My wife and child must depart at 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 147 

once from Syracuse and proceed to her father’s 
house in Catania. You will accompany them.” 

Lucullus moved a step or two away, and 
then returned to Damon’s side. 

“ My lord,” he ventured, timidly. 

“ Well ? ” said Damon, testily. Have you 
not yet gone? Are not my instructions ex- 
plicit enough?” 

'' Yes, my lord. But, oh ! my dear lord, I 
was your slave ; you gave me liberty, and 
when I see you thus in danger — ” 

Tush, Lucullus ! There is no reason for 
your fears. Leave me to my own purposes. 
Away, and do as I have bidden ! One mo- 
ment yet, however. Go first for Daphne. 
Take her with you to Catania. My wife will 
not refuse. Now, speed, my boy.” 

This thought for others was characteristic 
of Damon’s generous nature. Even in his 
own anxiety and trouble he did not forget to 
be mindful of what he knew to be nearest his 
underling’s heart. 

Lucullus raised his eyes to his master, eyes 
in which tears glittered. But Damon checked 
all further words, and dismissed him with a 
kindly gesture. 

The boy started off at full speed and was 
soon lost to sight. 

And now, my Pythias,” cried Damon, lift- 
ing his head like a war horse who scents 
from afar the smoke of battle, to the senate- 


148 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


house, and may the fates so bless or curse me, 
as I serve Syracuse to-day! But first, lend 
me your dagger I ” 

Pythias started. 

For what purpose, Damon? 

“ I am unarmed. Should another attack be 
made upon me, I would be prepared. Lend 
it me, my friend? ’’ 

Pythias reluctantly complied. He feared 
some desperate design on the part of his 
friend. 

I will accompany you to the senate-house,” 
he said. 

^^No, Pythias, that must not be,” replied 
Damon, firmly. ‘^No soldier who is not a 
senator is admitted to the councils. Be- 
sides, your companionship would avail me 
nothing. Go to Myron’s house. I will join 
you there at nightfall.” 

Pythias was by no means satisfied. He felt 
instinctively that Damon realized that he was 
about to face greater danger than he would 
acknowledge, and that he was endeavoring to 
conceal this realization in order not to alarm 
his friend. 

Two people, who have been constantly to- 
gether, acquire a subtle quality which enables 
them to read one another’s thoughts, without 
the guidance of speech. And so it was with 
Pythias now. Beneath the calmness of Da- 
mon’s words he saw what caused him to trem- 
ble for his friend. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 149 

Damon/^ he said, anxiously, ‘‘you will do 
nothing to place your life in danger ? 

Damon smiled, half bitterly, half sadly. 

“ Life,'’ he murmured, more to himself than 
to Pythias. “ For those who cling too closely 
too it, life is like one of those precious objects 
that its owner fears to use for fear of injuring 
it. Better be the pitcher of daily service, 
even if broken in the end.” 

These words were an additional source of 
inquietude to Pythias. 

“ But you will promise, Damon, upon our 
old friendship,” he pleaded, “ that you will do 
nothing in rashness? ” 

“ Have no fear. I will hold my passion in 
check. But it is close upon the time appoint- 
ed for the meeting of the Senate. Go to Cal- 
anthe, and in her love forget your fears. May 
the blessing of the gods be upon you both ! 
To-night I will be with you. Farewell ! ” 

With a warm pressure of the hand he 
turned and strode across the bridge to the 
island of Ortygia, where the Prytaneum up- 
reared its lofty head. 

Pythias, oppressed by forebodings, watched 
him until he was out of sight. 

“ May the immortal gods protect thee, this 
day, my friend, my brother ! ” he murmured 
passionately. 


CHAPTER VIIL 

ALL LOST SAVE HONOR! 

T he momentous hour had come when the 
fate of Syracuse lay trembling in the 
balance. Was she to remain a free city gov- 
erned by her own people or to become a king- 
dom beneath the sway of a monarch whose 
power would be subject to little or no check? 

The noble senate-chamber of the Prytaneum 
was rapidly filling with senators in their white 
robes of office. There was but little conver- 
sation between them as they took their places. 
Most of them knew and the rest suspected 
that a crisis was at hand. Upon some of the 
faces was a look of anxiety, amounting almost 
to positive terror. 

Marcus was already in his place in the 
elevated seat, facing the assembly, provided 
for the president of the august body. Below 
him, to the right, and only a few steps away, 
was Dionysius, surrounded by his staunchest 
supporters, among whom Philistius, Hermoc- 
rates and Damocles were conspicuous. 

The moment for opening the deliberations 

150 


ALL LOST SAVE HONOR. 


151 


was close at hand, but, to the anxiety and 
amazement of the members of the party 
opposed to Dionysius, their leader, Damon, 
had not yet arrived. In him rested all their 
strength ; without him they were powerless. 

Dionysius’ quick eye had also observed the 
absence of his chief adversary, and he motioned 
to Marcus to begin proceedings. If the matter 
could be forced to an issue before Damon’s 
arrival, the contention would be comparatively 
trivial. 

The satellite obeyed his chief and rose to his 
feet. As he did so, a hush fell over the assem- 
blage, and all waited in breathless expectancy. 

Senators of Syracuse,” began Marcus, “ we 
are gathered together to-day on matters of 
great concern to our beloved State. Since 
meeting last, the general of our forces has re- 
turned from the seat of war. If it so please 
you, Dionysius will reveal to you how our 
armies have fared.” 

A shout went up. 

Ay ! Ay ! Dionysius !” 

Dionysius rose, and, in well chosen words 
and with a modest manner, in which even his 
enemies could find nothing to cavil at, related 
the marvellous successes which had attended 
the Syracusan arms. The Carthaginians, 
whipped at every point, had been forced to 
retreat in ignominious rout. 

After the applause which greeted the remarks 


152 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


of the great general had finished, Procles, as 
leader of the democratic party in the absence 
of Damon, rose to speak. He was a dignified 
old man, with white hair and a long snowy 
beard — a man who was held in great respect 
for his virtues, but who was not possessed of 
any remarkable intellectual qualities. 

He began by allowing all honor and praise to 
Dionysius for the victories that had crowned 
the banners of Syracuse, but he demanded, in 
the name of his fellow-citizens, why, that very 
morning, the citadel had been seized and was 
now held in the control of Dionysius. 

Philistius responded. 

In whose charge should the arms and treas- 
ure of the city be, he asked, if not in that 
of her noble defender, to whom her very safety 
was due. The seizure of the citadel was not 
an act to be condemned, but one to be heartily 
approved. It had come to Dionysius’ knowl- 
edge that the citadel and its resources were 
being misused, and with the impulsiveness of a 
soldier and the indignation of a patriot, he had 
taken a measure to prevent further abuses, a 
somewhat arbitrary act perhaps, but one entirely 
justified by the circumstances. 

'' Our treasury can be controlled and man- 
aged for our best good,” concluded the orator, 
by no other so well as by Dionysius. I there- 
fore propose that he be empowered by this 
body to retain the citadel and direct it as he 
pleases.” 


ALL LOST SAVE HONOR. 153 

eagerly assent to and second that pro- 
posal/^ cried Hermocrates. 

It was rarely that this noble senator was the 
prime mover in a proposition, but as a seconder 
to other men’s ideas, he was inimitable. 

Dionysius made an attempt to speak, but, 
as had been previously arranged, he was 
silenced by Philistius with these words. 

“ Nay, noble Dionysius, we beg you not to 
speak. All here know your modesty and 
what it would prompt you to say. We are 
the better judges of what is best and fitting. 
Our city is rent by the dissensions of factions. 
Would that, like the citadel, it were in the 
hands of some such man as you ! ” 

These bold words were greeted with cheers 
by the aristocratic party, and many of those 
who Avere undecided in their opinions were car- 
ried away by that fascination which is al- 
ways attached to hero-Avorship. 

Procles felt himself poAverless to stem the 
tide, and those Avho Avere Damon’s staunch ad- 
herents were like rudderless ships without 
their leader. 

'' Ay ! ” continued Philistius, to gain every 
advantage from the enthusiasm, would that 
we had some such man to govern us. Our 
country is in danger, she needs a head to gov- 
ern, an arm to — ” 

But he was interrupted by the flinging 
violently back of the door leading into the 


154 


A TKUE KNIGHT. 


corridor, and in another moment Damon 
strode forward to the front of the platform 
upon which the president was seated. His 
flashing eyes and magnificent bearing gave 
him a certain leonine aspect that compelled 
the momentary admiration even of his ene- 
mies. ’ 

The senators involuntarily rose to their 
feet, anticipating some stormy scene. 

Who dares thus noisily intrude upon our 
deliberations?’^ exclaimed Marcus. 

A senator ! ” retorted Damon, with a long 
look of scorn at the caricature whom circum- 
stances had raised to a position he was in no 
ways qualified to fill. A senator, who asks 
you why the streets are filled with armed 
men ? A senator, who commands you to tell 
him why the citadel has been seized ? A sen- 
ator, who demands to know why he has been 
obstructed on his way to take his rightful 
seat in this our senate-house ? Who has dared 
place guards about the Prytaneum? ” 

Marcus, intimidated by Damon’s words and 
manner, made no direct reply. But, turning 
away, so that he could not feel Damon’s eye 
upon him, he addressed the Senate. 

“ I pray you, fathers, do not let this rash 
man interrupt the grave deliberation of that 
weighty matter we were discussing before his 
entrance.” 

'‘Are we already slaves, then?” cried Da- 


ALL LOST SAVE HONOR. 


155 


mon. “Can, with impunity, attempts be 
made to prevent us exercising our just rights ? 
Have we — 

But, with a loud voice, Philistius angrily 
interrupted him : 

“ I do entreat you, fathers, to silence this 
demagogue and let the business of the council 
proceed.” 

This appeal was greeted with vociferous 
cries of 

“ Silence, Damon, silence ! ” 

“ Proceed, Philistius, proceed ! ” 

The clamor was so great that the protests 
of Damon’s friends were completely drowned. 
When the cries had died away, Damon said 
with dignity: 

“ If it is your will, fathers, I yield, reserv- 
ing to myself the right to speak at the proper 
time. Proceed, Philistius. I’ll be silent.” 
And, with stately step, he moved away and 
took his seat near Procles and others of his 
following. 

“ I fear we are undone,” whispered Procles. 

“Not yet ! Not yet ! By the love you bear 
your country, I conjure you, rebuke the dar- 
ing of these knaves.” 

Philistius had resumed his speech. 

“My friends, were it not that we had 
amongst us a man like Dionysius, with a 
brain to conceive and a hand to execute, what 
would be our fate ? Is not Dionysius the one 


156 A TRUE KNIGHT. 

to act for US, nay more, govern for us. For, 
although we pretend to do so, we cannot gov- 
ern for ourselves. We need a head, and who 
so fitting as this, our greatest general, our first 
citizen ? Who so meet to be the single pillar 
to support all power ? Our councils here are 
hot and angry, full of strife and contention. 
Away with it all ! Leave our government to 
the pride of Syracuse, whose head is a Senate 
and whose arm is a host.^^ 

As Damon heard these words, his blood 
boiled in his veins, and it was with difficulty 
he could restrain his growing wrath and in- 
dignation. Dionysius, modestly concealed be- 
hind some of his followers, was listening with 
bated breath to hear how this proposal would 
be received. The Senate was as still as death 
with that ominous calm that precedes a storm. 

*‘Yes, my countrymen,’’ proceeded Philis- 
tius, we may be better and wiser ruled than 
by ourselves. I therefore propose that we 
here dissolve this body and proclaim Dion- 
ysius king of Syracuse.” 

In an instant, as if a bomb had fallen into 
their midst, all was tumult and confusion. 
The followers of Dionysius, to whom these 
words were a signal, set up a mighty shout, in 
which they were joined by the majority of the 
other senators. 

The adherents of the democracy were ready 
to give up the battle for lost, that is, all save 


ALL LOST SAVE HONOR. 157 

Damon. No, he would not yield, not without 
one desperate effort to save his country from 
the shame and disgrace that now seemed im- 
minent. 

When the shouting had partially ceased, he 
rose to his feet and stretched out his hands in 
mute appeal for silence. Then, advancing a 
few steps, he faced his fellow-senators. Some 
among those who surrounded Dionysius 
would have prevented him from speaking, 
but they were overruled by old Damocles, 
who insisted that Damon should be heard. 

With his noble figure drawn to its full 
height, and his face a mirror of the intense 
emotion which held him captive, Damon be- 
gan, in low, thrilling tones which compelled 
the attention of even his antagonists. 

Men of Syracuse, freemen yet ! Listen to 
me, I implore. Will you with your own 
hands tear down the bulwarks that guard 
your liberties ? Will you destroy at one fell 
blow the constitution carefully upreared and 
bravely defended by your ancestors? Are 
you mad thus to dig your own graves ? Will 
you allow stones to be tied about your necks 
in order that you may be cast into the sea ? 
Will you allow your country to be delivered 
up to murderers ? Aye, murderers, for they 
would destroy its life, its soul — its freedom. 
A king ! A "king in Syracuse ! Is this your 
wish?” 


158 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


It is not mine/’ exclaimed Procles. 

“ Nor mine ! ” 

‘‘ Nor mine ! ” 

“ I thank you for those voices, but, oh, how 
few they are.” He paused a moment, swept 
the whole assemblage with a glance, and then 
proceeded with passionate vehemence. Men 
of Syracuse, are ye blind ? Do you not see the 
dark abyss ? That you stand upon the very 
brink of gaping ruin? Are ye deaf? Have 
you not perceived the foulness of the crafty 
plea by which these workers of iniquity would 
delude you ? Awake ! Awake ! my country- 
men ! Arouse yourselves to action ! Throw 
defiance in the face of these plotters who 
would butcher you, reduce your wives and 
children to slavery ! Awake, I say ! Cast off 
the yoke they seek to put upon you ! Throw 
back defiance in their faces 1 ” 

Dionysius at this point realized that Da- 
mon’s eloquence was producing its effect. He 
emerged from where he had been concealed 
behind his friends, and advanced to where he 
could be seen by all in the vast hall. At the 
same time the chiefs of his party gathered 
about him, and Philistius hurriedly mounted 
to where Marcus sat, and muttered a few 
words in his ear. 

Syracusans,” continued Damon, a worse 
foe is at your gates than Carthage ever 
proved, a wolf who will gnaw at your very 
vitals, a — ” 


ALL LOST SAVE HONOR. 


159 


But he was interrupted by the loud voice of 
Marcus, crying : 

“ Fathers, this scolding demagogue has 
preached enough. Your votes ! Shall I dis- 
solve the Senate? Your votes, fathers ! ” 

A large number signified assent. Many 
were silent. 

I do dissolve the Senate ! 

As he spoke, Marcus descended from his 
seat and joined the group about Dionysius. 

Damon, pale as death, staggered and caught 
at a pillar for support. Was this the end ? 
Was his country, for which he would have 
risked all, indeed doomed ? 

Suddenly the voice of Philistius broke upon 
his ears, crying : 

“ All hail, Dionysius, king of Syracuse ! ’’ 
Hail ! came the ringing shout. Hail, 
Dionysius, king of Syracuse ! ” 

Dionysius advanced, and, after a slight 
pause, asked slowly and distinctly : 

'' Most reverend fathers, is this your vote 
No ! cried Damon, impetuously, with an 
imploring gesture to his colleagues, a large 
portion of whom had arisen and were ap- 
proaching nearer to Dionysius. No ! There 
is no vote.^^ 

I ask,’’ repeated Dionysius, paying no at- 
tention to Damon’s outbreak, I ask, is this 
your vote?’^ 

‘‘Yes, my most gracious liege,” replied 
Marcus obsequiously, '' it is the vote.” 


160 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


“No, no ! cried Damon, beside himself 
with grief and horror. “It is not the vote ! 
You have not voted, Procles, nor you, Aristo- 
bulus, nor you, Menander, nor you, Deme- 
trius ! 

“ In my position as president of the Senate,^’ 
said Marcus, “ I do declare it is the vote of 
this body that Dionysius shall be our sover- 
eign master. All hail, then, Dionysius ! ” 

Full three-quarters of the Senate flocked 
forward with loud acclaim to do homage to 
the newly elected king. 

Dionysius could not refrain from one swift 
glance of triumph at his defeated antagonist. 

When Damon saw the meagre numbers that, 
huddled together at one end of the hall, re- 
mained true to their principles and refused to 
do obeisance to a sovereign, his head sank 
upon his breast, and a tearless sob shook his 
frame. 

“My country,’^ he murmured, brokenly, 
“ oh, my country ! 

Escorted by Philistius and others, Dionysius 
ascended the platform recently vacated by 
the president of the Senate. 

In a few words he thanked the senators for 
their confidence, addressing them as “my 
most loyal subjects.” 

“ My most loyal subjects ! ” echoed Damon, 
with a world of scorn. 

But, although the words were uttered in the 


ALL LOST SAVE HONOR. 161 

lowest of tones, Dionysius caught them, and a 
fierce anger took possession of him, a thirst 
for vengeance upon this man, who, almost 
alone, had dared to oppose him. 

He gave no outward sign of this, however, 
but, continuing his speech, he said : 

We shall always hold dear to our heart 
and chief in our councils those of you who, 
to-day, have supported us. But, before un- 
folding our projects for the future glory of 
Syracuse, we do now command those conten- 
tious spirits who would imbroil our delibera- 
tions, Damon, Procles and the others, to leave 
this senate-house.’' 

At these words, Damon started. The blood 
rushed into his face and then receded, leaving 
him as pale as marble. With mien and accent 
no whit less proud than those of the so re- 
cently created king, he said : 

I am a senator, and stand here where it is 
my right to stand..” 

“What!” demanded Dionysius, between 
his teeth. “Do you dare defy me, traitor? ” 

At this epithet, the wrath, anguish and 
horror, which had been smouldering in Da- 
mon’s breast, burst into flame and overmas- 
tered him. As a wounded tiger turns upon 
its foe, he turned upon his country’s ravisher. 

“ Is it you who call me traitor?” And the 
words leaped forth like winged arrows, each 
speeding to its mark. “Traitor! To whom? 


162 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


To you? How can a man be traitor to what he 
never owed allegiance ? Beware, despot ! You 
are hailed with acclamations to-day, but that is 
no warrant that the people will not stone you 
to-morrow ! Shame upon you, Dionysius ! 
Shame ! the blushes should dye your cheek 
deeper than the purple you have usurped. 
Traitor ! Traitor, forsooth ! Here in the pres- 
ence of these men, who have been freemen but 
now are slaves, and would that my voice could 
reach to the uttermost corners of this fair land, 
I brand you, you, Dionysius, liar, coward and 
traitor ! Liar, because you have been false to 
your oath as general of the army ! Coward, 
because you have, like a thief in the night, 
stolen the public treasure ! Traitor, because 
you have bowed your country to the dust, and 
trampled her beneath your impious feet ! Here 
to your face, oh, mighty king, I scorn, defy 
and curse you !” 

Pale as ashes and shaking with rage, Dion- 
ysius clapped his hands loudly together, crying: 

“ My guards I What, ho, there ! My guards 

The doors were thrown open and a body of 
armed soldiers dashed into the room. 

Seize him 

‘‘ Not yet ! Receive first a freeman's legacy !" 
And, with Pythias' dagger held firmly in his 
grasp, Damon leaped upon the platform. He 
raised the gleaming steel to plunge it in Dio- 
nysius’ heart, but, before the blow could de- 


ALL LOST SAVE HONOR. 


16S 


scend, his arm was seized by Philistius and he 
himself hurled backward down the steps. The 
weapon fell with a ringing clatter upon the 
marble floor, and in another moment Damon 
was a prisoner in the hands of the soldiers. 

Dionysius had never flinched at the attack. 
He had faced the ranks of the enemy too often 
to fear personal danger. But it was a bitter 
humiliation to him to be thus censured and 
assailed before the Senate. 

Away with him !” he cried. Place him 
in a dungeon of the citadel.’^ 

The temporary excitement under which 
Damon had been laboring had almost instanta- 
neously died away, leaving him pale, calm, 
hopeless. His cause was lost. There was 
nothing left save to accept the inevitable. 

‘‘You have triumphed, Dionysius,” he said, 
his tranquil, sedate manner contrasting 
strongly with his previous vehemence. “You 
have triumphed and Syracuse is doomed. 
You to your palace, I to a dungeon. But, my 
position is more honorable than yours !” 

And, bowing his head, he submitted himself 
to his captors. 

He had fought a good flght and been van- 
quished ; but there are many worse things 
man, after a brave contest for the right, to be 
borne upon a shield. 


CHAPTER IX. 


DOOMED. 


ITH heavy heart and lagging foot, 



vv Pythias had made his way to Myron’s 
house, there to remain, as he had promised, 
till Damon should appear. He knew Damon’s 
nature too well not to believe that, should all 
others weaken, he would resist to the last 
gasp, and he was confident that his friend’s 
party had but little chance of winning, so 
strong were the opposing forces. That Da- 
mon himself feared the worst was evident 
from his sending his wife and child to a place 
of safety. It was not impossible that the 
day’s proceedings would terminate in a riot 
and acts of violence. As this thought oc- 
curred to Pythias, he bitterly regretted the 
promise he had given. He should have re- 
mained where the danger was and not skulked 
away to a place of safety. But the promise 
was given, and both his loyalty to Damon and 
the rules of the sect to which he belonged for- 
bade its violation. 

The weary hours dragged laggingly, each 


164 


DOOMED. 


165 


moment increasing the young soldier’s appre- 
hensions. His eyes would wander constantly 
to the long white road which led to the Gate 
of the Dioscuri, seeking to discover the first 
signs of any unusual excitement in the city. 

Not even Calanthe’s love and tenderness 
were comfort to him to-day. 

She, poor girl, was at a loss to know how to 
cheer her despondent lover. 

“ Are you ill, Pythias ? ” she asked, anxious- 
ly, soon after his arrival. 

111 ? No ! Why that question ? ” 

You are so unlike yourself. Are you in 
trouble ? If so, let me share it. It is unfair 
to permit me to be a partner only of your 
sunny hours.” 

I am well, I tell you. Seek not to inquire 
further.” 

These were the first words approaching un- 
kindness that Pythias had ever addressed to 
her, and, in spite of all her efforts, her eyes 
filled with tears. 

In a moment, Pythias, whose speech had 
been prompted more by absence of mind than 
anything else, took her in his arms and kissed 
away the tears. 

Nay, my Calanthe,” he said, soothingly. 

Forgive me, sweet. I meant nothing. You 
are right. I am not myself to-day. It is this 
meeting of the Senate in which Damon will 
have to fight fearful odds. I shall be anxious 


166 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


until the day is over. Think no more of it. 
Smile, Calanthe, and in the sunshine of your 
presence let me forget the ghastly thoughts 
that crowd upon my brain.^’ 

But she only clung closer to him, and 
raised her eyes to try to read in his face what 
was passing in his mind. 

‘‘ Ghastly thoughts ! she repeated. “ Is 
there then any danger to Damon.^^ 

Danger ! No. But a great disappoint- 
ment and trouble I am confident await him, 
and when Damon suffers, Pythias suffers too. 
I am doubtless over-apprehensive. Think 
no more of it.^’ And this is all he said to 
her on the subject that was occupying, for the 
moment, his whole thought. Is it possible for 
two beings to be absolutely frank with one 
another at all times and under all circum- 
stances ? Even with the one from whom we 
think we have no secrets, what we tell him 
is not the half of what, for one reason or 
another, sometimes good, sometimes bad, we 
hide from him. 

In this case, Pythias thought it useless to 
worry Calanthe with forebodings which might 
prove false. On her part, although far from 
satisfied, she abstained, with tact rare in a 
woman, from questioning him further. 

'' Do you know, Pythias,’^ she said, and al- 
though the words were said jestingly, there 
was something of truth in them. Do you 


DOOMED. 


167 


know, Pythias, that I am just a little jealous 
of Damon? But then, why not? I fear I 
should be jealous of anything that possessed a 
tithe of your affection.’’ 

My Calanthe ! May the gods be forever 
praised for giving me the treasure of your 
love !” 

As the afternoon wore on, Pythias became 
more and more alarmed at the non-appearance 
of Damon. The Senate must long since have 
been dismissed and yet he did not come. 
Could this mean anything but misfortune? 
In order to divert her lover, Calanthe pro- 
posed that they should go to Damon’s villa to 
see Hermione, and Damon, should he come, 
could follow them there. 

Hermione is not there,” said Pythias, ab- 
sently. 

^‘Not there!” exclaimed Calanthe in sur- 
prise. 

No, she went to Catania this morning. 

Calanthe made not remark, although this 
news surprised her greatly. Why had Her- 
mione so suddenly departed? Thoroughly 
alarmed now, she became as eager as Pythias 
himself for the appearance of Damon. 

Toward sunset they wandered out upon the 
highway and walked slowly toward the city. 
There was but one way for Damon to come to 
the farm and they might meet him. They had 
not gone far when they saw far ahead a man 


168 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


in the white robes of a senator coming toward 
them. 

It is he!'' cried Pythias, joyfully. '‘The 
gods be thanked, he is safe 1 We will wait for 
him here, Calanthe." 

But as he approached nearer they saw that 
it was not Damon, but an older man — Dam- 
ocles. 

In an instant Pythias knew that he was the 
bearer of evil tidings. Without a word to 
Calanthe he left her side and ran at full speed 
to meet the old man. 

" Well," he cried, as he came within hailing 
distance, “what news?" 

The answer was a sad shake of the head. 

“Damon! He is in danger!" exclaimed 
Pythias, as he stopped breathless in front of 
Damocles. 

“Yes," said Damocles, “in great danger." 

“Speak, man. Tell me all." 

“ Dionysius is king!" 

“Ye gods!" 

“ And Damon — " 

“ Well, Damon?" 

“ Damon is a prisoner in the citadel." 

“ Have they dared — " 

“ He made an attack on the king." 

“This is not the worst! I see it in your 
eye ! His life is forfeit? No !" 

“Not yet. But such an action cannot, for 
the good of the State, go unpunished," 


DOOMED. 


169 


Calanthe, who had hastily followed Pythias, 
joined them at that moment, and, overhearing 
the last words, guessed that it was Damon of 
whom they were speaking and whose life was 
in danger. She timidly laid her hand upon 
Pythias' arm, but he, half maddened by the 
terrible news and forgetful of all else, shook it 
roughly off. 

“ Damon !" he gasped, Damon a prisoner, 
and like to be condemned to death! Oh, 
coward that I was to let him go alone and 
face the peril. I should have been near him 
and not idling the precious hours away. Cow- 
ard 1 Coward I He would not have done so I 
But, perhaps it is not too late to save him. To 
the city, Damocles, to the city I" 

Pythias," cried Calanthe, what would 
you do?" and she threw her arms about his 
neck. 

‘‘ Unloose me I" he cried frantically, releas- 
ing himself from her embrace. ‘^This is no 
time for love's dalliance. Away from me 1" 

'^Pythias! Pythias!" 

There was such agony in the cry that it 
penetrated even Pythias' distracted brain. 

“There, my Calanthe," he said more qui- 
etly, drawing her toward him. “ I knew not 
what I did. Forgive me ! Pity me ! But — 
but I must be gone! Farewell!" 

With a hurried caress he turned from her, 
and, accompanied by Damocles, directed his 
steps toward the city. 


170 


A TBUE KNIGHT. 


Calanthe made a movement to follow him, 
and then, sinking down into the dust, she 
buried her face in her hands, her slender 
frame shaking with the frightened sobs she 
was powerless to control. 

''Now, then, tell me all,^^ said Pythias, as 
he strode along by Damocles^ side, chafing at 
the necessity of slackening his speed to keep 
pace with the old man's slower step. " Spare 
me no detail. I would know all." 

With marvellous docility in one of his 
temperament, Damocles related the scene in 
the Senate, interrupted every now and then 
by Pythias' passionate exclamations. Damo- 
cles' presence on the way to Myron's farm was 
explained by the fact that Damon had sent 
him a message through Belos, who had been 
appointed to guard the prisoner, begging him 
to inform Pythias of what had occurred. 

" They shall release him if I have to attack 
the citadel single-handed !" exclaimed Pythias 
impetuously, when the ifarrative was finished. 

"Patience! Patience!" rejoined Damocles. 
"Tame your young blood. Nothing can be 
accomplished by rashness." 

"Are you his friend?" exclaimed Pythias, 
as if struck by a sudden thought. " How 
comes it that you, a supporter of Dionysius, 
bring me this message?" 

Damocles smiled somewhat grimly. 

" We are opponents in politics, true," he 


DOOMED. 


171 


replied calmly, but Damon thought he could 
trust me. He might have been mistaken. I 
have long ago learned the folly of doing a 
favor to any one. Why I concluded to come 
to you I do not know. Perhaps it was fate 

''You have influence with this — this new 
king. Can you do nothing to save Damon 

" Whether I can or not is a question, and so 
is whether I will or not.’’ 

"What mean you?” 

" The life or death of any man matters but 
little.” 

" It may matter much to him.” 

" It should not,” replied Damocles calmly. 
" Death is but another name for sleep. Why, 
then, should man fear death when he eagerly 
courts sleep ?” 

"Spare me your platitudes,” said Pythias, 
his anger rising. " Have you no feeling?” 

" Feeling ! A word synonymous with folly 
and equally to be shunned. The only true 
comfort for all the ills and troubles of hu- 
manity, especially those of others, is to pay no 
attention to them.” 

A furious retort was on Pythias’ lips, but he 
was checked from giving it utterance by a 
gesture from the old man, who, looking up at 
his young companion with a quizzical expres- 
sion, said : 

"I do not dislike Damon. Let that suffice 
you.” 


172 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


They had by this time reached the gate of 
the Dioscuri, and striking across the city they 
proceeded in the direction of the citadel. 
Everywhere a joyous excitement reigned. On 
all sides, houses were being decorated and tri- 
umphal arches erected in honor of Dionysius^ 
accession to kingly dignities. One would 
have said, from all outward appearances, that 
the new order of things was accepted without 
a dissenting voice. The presence of soldiers 
everywhere may have had something to do 
with silencing the tongues of the malcontents. 

But few words were spoken by the two men 
as they hurried toward the citadel. When 
they reached their destination Pythias at once 
sought out Belos and asked to be admitted to 
his friend^s presence. 

“Impossible !” replied Belos firmly. 

“ Impossible 

“I would willingly admit you if I could, 
but the orders emanating from the king him- 
self are imperative. No one is to be admitted 
to the prisoner. 

Pleadings, threats and expostulations were 
equally in vain, and Pythias at last was forced 
to yield to the inevitable. 

It was already dark when he left the citadel 
with Damocles. 

“Several of the former senators have been 
commanded to appear at Dionysius’ palace to- 
night,” said Damocles, as they were crossing 


DOOMED. 


173 


the bridge, I among the number. Damon's 
fate will then doubtless be decided. If you 
will let me know where you will be I will 
either come to you or send you word of the 
result.'* 

I shall return to the citadel and there pass 
the night," returned Pythias, dejectedly. If 
I cannot see him I can at least be near him." 

There was a certain grufiP kindliness in Dam- 
ocles' manner, as he took leave of the nearly 
heart-broken young soldier, which belied his 
claim to absolute cynicism. 

Dionysius had reached the topmost round 
on the ladder of his ambition, the crown of 
Syracuse was on his head, the sceptre in his 
hand, but with the honey of his cup of suc- 
cess was mingled one bitter drop of gall — ^the 
attack made on him by the fanatic Pythago- 
rean. He had only recently done the man a 
kindness and treated him with the utmost 
courtesy, and this had been his reward. Per- 
haps, from his point of view, he was justified 
in stigmatizing Damon's conduct as the basest 
ingratitude. In the very moment of his tri- 
umph his pride had received a rude shock, and 
he himself had been attacked in the most viru- 
lent manner. His anger rose to fever heat 
whenever he thought of it. But, above all this, 
he recognized beyond all manner of a doubt 
that his throne would never be secure if Da- 
mon were allowed his liberty. No diplomacy, 


174 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


no bribery could win him to the royal cause. 
Had he been allowed to continue that day, his 
eloquence might have turned the tide in the 
other direction. With him the democratic 
party might even yet obtain the uppermost 
hand, but, without their leader, the others 
would soon learn to accept royalty. It was 
and had been from the beginning Dionysius’ 
intention to be a just and kindly ruler, to 
beautify Syracuse and render it in the af ts and 
in intellectual attainments as well as in mili- 
tary power one of the first cities of the world. 
He was not naturally of a cruel disposition, 
and it was repugnant to him to cement the 
stones of his monarchy with the blood of one 
of his fellow-citizens. But his ambition over- 
powered with him all other considerations. 
He would run no risk of the overthrow of the 
edifice he had reared with so much pains 
through any weakness of purpose now. 

Damon was dangerous to the safety of roy- 
alty, and Damon must die. 

It was with this resolve that the king, as 
he was now in fact, proceeded to meet the 
men whom he had chosen as the councillors 
of the crown. Not that Dionysius intended 
to be restrained as to his own powers, those 
he had determined should be absolute, but 
there were many petty details of the State 
that could be entrusted advantageously to 
others, and moreover, it was, perhaps, well to 


DOOMED. 


175 


flatter in the beginning the men through 
whose aid he had been raised to the throne. 

In the council-chamber, as one of the 
rooms of the palace was henceforth to be 
called, were gathered together most of those 
whom we have already seen at the banquet a 
few nights before, Philistius, Hermocrates, 
Marcus, Creon and others. 

Dionysius' greeting of his adherents was 
cordial, or rather, gracious, perhaps, would be 
the best word, for in it was evident a sense of 
the higher position he now occupied. To 
Marcus, however, he was noticeably cold, a 
fact which did not escape the attention of the 
others, and was much commented on later. 
It had been a mooted question, indeed, with 
Dionysius, whether he should bid Marcus to 
the council or not, but he had finally decided 
that until the kingdom was firmly established 
it would be more politic not to antagonize too 
strongly the recent president of the Senate. 
He was fully determined, however, as soon as 
circumstances should allow, to abandon him 
and permit him to have no part in the delib- 
erations of State. He despised his character 
and disliked him personally , and he no longer 
had need of him as a figure-head. 

After deliberations on various subjects, 
which were important in their bearings on 
the policy to be pursued by the new govern- 
ment, but which are of no interest as regards 


176 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


this story, the case of Damon was intro- 
duced. 

Dionysius listened with deep attention to the 
discussion which followed, but said little. He 
had already resolved what to do in the matter, 
but he preferred to let the onus of whatever 
action might be taken, rest upon the others. 

With but one dissenting voice, the opinion 
was universal that Damon should be con- 
demned to death. 

“ The life of our gracious king will never 
be safe so long as this fanatic is allowed to 
live,’’ said Philistius. 

And the peace of the city will be disturbed 
by his efforts to create dissension,” added 
Hermocrates. My voice is for his death.” 

And mine ! ” 

And mine ! ” 

^'My friends,” said old Damocles. “Be 
not too hasty, I implore. That Damon’s 
fault has been great, I admit — ” 

“ Fault ! ” interrupted Philistius, testily. 
“Do you call an attempt at assassination a 
fault ? ” 

- “ Call it by what name you please.” 

“ Crime.” 

“ Granted. But, crime though it was, it is 
always a king’s prerogative to exercise clem- 
ency. Moreover, to spare Damon’s life would 
go far toward reconciling the disaffected por- 
tion of the citizens, small though it may be in 
numbers ! ” 


DOOMED. 


177 


Small ! exclaimed Philistius, contempt- 
uously, “ they are a mere handful. The en- 
tire city to-night is rejoicing, and on every 
tongue are praises of the virtues of our king.^^ 

“ Be not too confident. The man of success 
is always worshipped by the masses, but no 
one can tell how soon dissatisfaction may 
creep in. We are not yet so strong nor is our 
king so firm in power that a misstep may not 
ruin all. I, Dionysius, am for clemency.'’ 

But the others evidently were not of his opin- 
ion. They all without exception looked upon 
Damon as a dangerous enemy and one to 
be suppressed. 

“The people despise a mild ruler,” said 
Hermocrates. “ Dionysius should be feared.” 

“Better for him to be beloved,” retorted 
Damocles boldly. “A cruel king is hated.” 

Dionysius frowned. Damocles’ remarks 
were not at all to his taste, and it was not the 
first time that the old man had offended him 
by his freedom of tongue. He controlled his 
temper, however, and allowed the discussion to 
proceed without interruption from him. 

But all Damocles’ arguments proved of no 
avail; the others remained firmly in favor of 
Damon’s death. 

“ And let bold subjects learn by his example 
not to provoke the patience of their prince.” 

Dionysius accepted the general opinion, 
which was so in accordance with his own wishes, 


178 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


and it was decided that the sentence should be 
carried into effect without delay. Then and 
there Damon was condemned to die by the 
axe the following morning. 

The condition of the prisoner in the dun- 
geon of the citadel was sad indeed. The 
patriot had risked all for the country he so 
dearly loved, and he had lost. 

From the very moment of his arrest Damon 
had felt that there was no chance of his life 
being spared, and he was, therefore, neither 
surprised nor shocked when Belos announced 
to him his sentence. As far as he himself was 
concerned it mattered little. His philosophy 
taught him that life was a thing to be but 
lightly prized, and to be sacrificed willingly in 
the cause of honor. But the thought of his 
wife and child was torture to him. How 
could he leave them unprotected? Unpro- 
tected ! No ! To Pythias’ care he would con- 
sign them. Pythias, the friend of his bosom, 
would be a guardian of his wife, a father to 
his child. 

But, oh, how hard not to bid them a last 
farewell ! Never again to press to his heart 
his noble-hearted Hermione and the boy of 
whom he was so proud and of whose future he 
had hoped so much ! This was the sting, and 
at this thought the courage of the strong man 
failed him. 

Could he but have the time to go to Catania 


DOOMED. 


179 


and once more embrace his loved ones ! What 
had Belos said ? The execution was to take 
place in the presence of king and courtiers. 
He would lower his pride, he would beg on 
his bended knees, not for life, not for liberty, 
but for a respite long enough to proceed to 
Catania and return. Surely Dionysius would 
not be heartless enough to refuse this. 

Never for himself would he deign to crave 
a boon, but for those he loved he would bow 
his proud spirit in the dust, even at the feet of 
the betrayer of his country. 


CHAPTER X. 


A LIVING PLEDGE. 

T he sun shone brightly down upon the 
open market-place and gleamed upon the 
spears and breastplates of the soldiers drawn 
up in a hollow square. In the centre was 
erected a scaffold, and near the block, resting 
upon his heavy axe, stood, grim and motion- 
less, the sinister, black-robed figure of the 
executioner. 

Opposite the scaffold had been built a sort of 
stand hung with the royal purple, and pro- 
tected from the rays of the sun by an awning 
of silk edged with gold. This was destined 
for the king and his retinue. 

The windows and roofs of the houses over- 
looking the market-place were filled with 
spectators, and the adjoining streets were 
packed with an eager, pushing crowd, attracted 
thither by that passion for the horrible, which 
seems innate in humanity, and which not even 
civilization has been able wholly to eradicate. 

The people are rarely grateful for efforts in 
their behalf, especially when those efforts 


A LIVING PLEDGE. 


181 


prove fruitless, and there were but few in that 
vast crowd who felt pity or sympathy for the 
condemned who was about to give his life for 
them. To be sure, Damon had never been 
very popular with the masses. He was too 
grave and serious in his demeanor, and the 
Pythagoreans, of whom there were but few in 
Syracuse, were feared by the ignorant. Every- 
thing that glitters is apt to pass for gold with 
the majority, and although to be and to appear 
are two different things, the latter often ac- 
complishes more than the former. Moreover, 
Damon had failed, and failure in public affairs 
is the unforgivable crime ; the estimation 
in which a statesman is held increases or 
diminishes according as the sun of his for- 
tunes is high in the zenith or is sinking 
toward the horizon. 

There were a few amongst the spectators, 
however, whose hearts were heavy within 
them, a few faithful souls who had known 
Damon well and loved him. Close to the line 
of soldiers stood Pythias, and by his side 
Damocles. The young man’s face was very 
grave and sad ; he had aged years in the last 
twenty-four hours ; the eyes were sunken and 
haggard, and about the lips were carved lines 
deeper and more melancholy than age itself 
can imprint. But he was very calm, with 
that calmness which is mercifully bestowed 
upon us in times of overwhelming grief, when 


182 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


the brain refuses to act, and the whole world 
seems but a moving panorama of which we 
form no part, and in which we have no 
interest. 

Damocles had kept his word, and immedi- 
ately after the meeting of the council he had 
proceeded to the citadel and broken to Pythias 
as gently as he could the dreadful news of 
Damon’s condemnation to death. At first 
Pythias’ horror, grief and rage were terrible 
to behold, and he formed the maddest pro- 
jects for the rescue of Damon and vengeance 
upon Dionysius. Damocles, forgetting en- 
tirely his selfish philosophy, remained with 
him the entire night, reasoning with him and 
finally watching by him, when, worn out, he 
fell into an uneasy sleep. In the morning he 
tried to dissuade him from being present at 
the execution, but Pythias, who was now 
calm, quietly but firmly insisted, and there 
was nothing for Damocles to do save to 
accompany him. 

A burst of music announced the arrival of 
the king, who, borne in a magnificent litter 
and attended by a numerous train of courtiers 
and a glittering body-guard, advanced toward 
the market-place amidst the acclamations of 
the multitude. When the square was reached 
he alighted, and proceeding to the platform 
took his place on the throne erected for him. 
Both king and courtiers were in resplendent 


A LIVING PLEDGE. 


183 


costumes. No such pageantry had ever been 
witnessed beneath the republic, and the crowd 
was deeply impressed. 

As Dionysius' eye rested upon the scaffold 
with its ominous occupant, a feeling almost 
like remorse tugged for a moment at Ms heart, 
but in another instant the selfish part of his 
nature reasserted itself, and he looked on the 
approaching sacrifice of life as necessary to 
the safety of his person and the preservation 
of his throne. 

And now through a double line of soldiers 
was seen advancing the prisoner, guarded, and 
with his hands bound behind him. His face 
was pale, and the senator's robes he still wore 
were soiled and crumpled, but his head was 
erect and his step steady. A hush fell over the 
the multitude as the victim appeared in the open 
space. Pythias set his teeth tightly togetner 
and clutched Damocles' arm for support. 

Between his guards Damon advanced until 
he stood beneath Dionysius' throne, and then 
raising his eyes he fixed them full upon the 
face of his victorious enemy. In that look 
there was neither defiance nor anger, but only 
a mournful sadness. 

For an instant, the two men, diplomate and 
patriot, victor and vanquished, gazed into one 
another's eyes. Then, rising, Dionysius ad- 
dressed his fallen enemy : 

'' Damon, as you have already been in- 


184 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


formed, you have been convicted of high 
treason and sentenced to death by the axe. 
Before the sentence is executed, have you 
aught to say ? If so, you are permitted to 
speak. 

“ Oh, king,’^ came the answer in low, clear 
tones, without a tremor, Oh, king, for such 
you are by popular assent, as to the charge of 
high treason, I have already spoken. The 
question of my guilt I leave to my country in 
the future to decide. If my death could ac- 
complish what my life has failed to do, I 
should die happy. But, before I die, there is 
one boon I crave.” 

‘‘Speak.” 

“ I ask a respite.” 

“ A respite ! ” 

“ Ay ! ” and the voice now shook in spite of 
the speaker’s desperate efforts to control it. 
“A respite, but a short respite. I have a 
wife and child, and I fain would hold them 
to my heart once more before my eyes look 
their last upon this earth. Just to kiss them 
once, I — I — ” 

In spite of himself, Dionysius’ heart was 
touched. 

“ Where is you wife and child? ” he asked. 

“ At the foot of ^tna, in Catania. Give 
me but time to go there and return. I will 
be here at the hour you appoint to yield my 
life in this place.” 


A LIVING PLEDGE. 


185 


And what pledge have I that you will 
return? 

The word of a man of honor is all that I 
can give.^’ 

Dionysius smiled a trifle sarcastically. Who 
would keep his word, when his life was the 
price ? 

The pledge is not sufflcient for the gravity 
of your offence, he said, coldly, his momentary 
sympathy gone. Damon, I cannot grant your 
request. Guards, lead him to his doom ! ” 

But, before a movement could be made, 
the soldiers nearest the throne were pushed 
violently aside, and Pythias, leaping through 
the breach, dashed forward and threw himself 
at Dionysius^ feet. 

Hold, king ! One moment, I implore ! ” 

Two of the guards rushed forward, and laid 
their hands upon the intruder's shoulders. 

“Hear me, Dionysius,” begged Pythias, 
piteously. “ Hear me ! ” 

“ Release him, guards ! ” commanded Dion- 
ysius. “Who are you and what would you 
with me?” 

“ I am Pythias, a Greek born, a soldier in 
your army, and one to whose heart Damon is 
most dear.” 

“ Speak, then, but be brief.” 

“You have asked of Damon a pledge to 
insure his safe return. Take me! I pawn 
my life for his. Let Damon go and see his 


186 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


wife and child. Bind me ! Lock me in his 
dungeon ! Strike off my head, if Damon fail 
to keep his promise ! ” 

Dionysius was silent for a moment. He 
leaned forward, his chin resting upon his 
hand, and scrutinized the young soldier at- 
tentively. The courtiers were also silent, 
wondering what would be the result of this 
extraordinary offer. The crowd, realizing 
that something unusual was going on, at- 
tempted to press closer, but were kept back 
by the spears of the soldiery. 

Marcus peered over Dionysius^ shoulder 
with an evil leer at the two men he hated 
most on earth. 

'' You offer yourself for him,'^ said Dion- 
ysius, at last. ''Are you then his brother?” 

" No,” replied Pythias, " not' precisely that. 
And yet,” he added, hastily, " yes ! Yes, I am 
his brother.” 

" Not his brother, and yet his brother,” re- 
peated Dionysius. "What means this, Da- 
mon ? Is it some quibble of your school ? ” 

" No,” replied Damon. " It is no quibble. 
If we are not brothers in blood, we are so in 
heart.” 

" And you, Pythias,” said the king, " would 
hazard your life for this your friend. Should 
I allow Damon to depart, will you die in 
his stead if he fail to return at the appointed 
hour?” 


A LIVING PLEDGE. 


187 


“ That is my offer.” 

“ And, Damon, are you quite sure that you 
will come and ransom your friend at the 
appointed hour?” 

“ Sure pf it !” exclaimed Damon. “ I have 
no sounding words, which are the tools of 
braggarts. I am sure of it.” 

“ And I am sure of it,” said Pythias, rising 
and placing his hand upon Damon’s shoulder. 

“Take heed,” said the king, “when life is 
in question men hold promises but lightly.” 

“ What Damon says that Pythias believes,” 
was the proud and confident answer. 

Again Dionysius was silent, marveling at 
this friendship which would give up life itself 
for the beloved object, at this perfect trust 
which knew no doubt. To the man whose 
whole existence' was one of diplomacy, doubt- 
ing all men and with faith in none, the 
case before him seemed a most unheard-of 
phenomenon. Supposing he agreed to the 
proposition, would Damon return? He did 
not believe it, but he was curious to know. 

He rose and came to the edge of the plat- 
form. 

“Your request is granted,” he said. “Un- 
bind the prisoner.” 

Pythias bowed low before the sovereign. 

“ With all my heart I thank you.” 

“ It is not yet noon,” said Dionysius. “ Da- 
mon, you can be in Catania before nightfall, a 


188 A 'TRUE KNIGHT. 

four-hour's journey at the mosi. To-night 
remain with your wife and child. At noon 
exactly to-morrow be in the guard room of 
the citadel. If you appear not there at the 
moment, your friend shall lose his head." 

I shall be there !" replied Damon, whose 
hands were now untied. 

As he spoke he opened his arms, and Pyth- 
ias threw himself into them. 

The crowd, thinking that Damon was freed, 
broke into an uproar, chiefly of disappoint- 
ment at being cheated out of the ghastly spec- 
tacle they had hoped to enjoy. 

“My Pythias," murmured Damon, under 
cover of the noise. “ I accept from you what 
I would gladly have offered to you." 

Pythias' sobs choked his utterance so that 
he could scarce speak. 

“Damon," he gasped. “Come not back. 
Leave me to die for you." 

“ Tush, man," said Damon, whose own eyes 
were streaming. “ We are men, and should 
not show ourselves thus weak and womanish. 
I did not think to shed a tear, but friendship 
like yours has made my heart cowardly and 
brought the water to my eyes." 

The clamor had now somewhat subsided, all 
curious to know what had really occurred. 
Dionysius, followed by Philistius, Marcus and 
Hermocrates, descended from the platform and 
approached the two friends. 


A LIVING PLEDGE. 189 

“ Damon/ ^ he said, and there was a strange 
look in his eye, one almost of tenderness, as 
he spoke. Damon, you are wasting the pre- 
cious moments. I warn you, no respite will 
be granted. Guards, bind this man and con- 
duct him to prison.’’ 

Farewell, Damon; may the gods have you 
in their keeping !” 

Farewell, Pythias, my pledge, my life, my 
other self, farewell !” 

Pythias tore himself from Damon’s embrace, 
and held out his hands for Belos to fetter, 
while Damon, turning hastily, strode rapidly 
away, the soldiers and the amazed people 
making way for him as he passed. 


CHAPTER XI. 


CALANTHE. 

T he news of what had happened spread 
rapidly, and it soon became known 
throughout Syracuse that Pythias had offered 
himself as a surety for his friend and would 
die in his place should Damon fail to keep his 
promise. It was the one topic of conversation, 
the one subject of speculation, from king in 
his palace to peasant in his hut. Would 
Damon return and redeem the life that was 
offered for his ? Wagers were freely made and 
as freely taken, and the excitement ran so high 
that those who had been disappointed in their 
morbid desire for the horrible were consoled. 

There was one to whose revengeful soul the 
exchange brought delight for other reasons. 
Marcus, who hated the two friends with that 
deep undying hatred of which only a petty self- 
centered spirit is capable, saw the opportunity 
for the most full and complete retaliation for 
the humiliation he had been made to suffer in 
the loss of Calanthe. He also attributed to 
Damon, though he would have found it diffi- 


CALANTHE. 


191 


cult to give any just reason for doing so, the 
increasing coldness with which he was treated 
by the king, from whose elevation to the 
throne he had expected so much. 

Could Damon but be prevented by some 
stratagem or other from returning at the ap- 
pointed time, Pythias would be put to death, 
Damon would never dare again to show his face 
in Syracuse, and so Marcus would be freed at 
one stroke from the two men he most detested 
and feared. Moreover, Pythias, his rival, once 
effectually disposed of, could not Calanthe per- 
haps be won, by foul means if not by fair? 
For Marcus had never ceased to be confident 
but that, could he have kept the girl a short 
time longer in his power, he would have won 
his cause. 

But how could he effect his purpose ? How 
could Damon be kept from returning? This 
thought was puzzling his brain all the way 
from the market-place to his home. When he 
arrived at his palace he had hit on no satis- 
factory plan of operation, and yet, there was 
no time to be lost. He entered the hall, and 
flinging himself down upon a pile of cushions 
gave himself up to reflection. 

Suddenly he started heavily to his feet. Yes, 
that was the best plan. He would go himself 
to Catania. He was familiar with the country 
and knew where Hermione^s father lived. It 
was but a three hours' ride, and Marcus, in 


192 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


spite of his weight, was no mean horseman. 
Once there, before morning, he might hit upon 
some plan to effect his purpose and effectually 
prevent Damon^s return. 

He retired at once to his private apartments 
and exchanged his gorgeous apparel for sombre 
robes suitable for his expedition. Then, de- 
scending to the stables, he ordered his grooms 
to bring forth a horse he had recently pur- 
chased, a superb animal, an iron gray with a 
proudly arched neck and eyes full of fire. 

Mounting, he rode slowly through the streets 
of the city. There was no need of speed,^ as he 
must avoid all possibility of overtaking Damon. 

As he rode out of the Gate of the Dioscuri, 
he saw coming toward him the girl whose pos- 
session he coveted. She was accompanied by 
an elderly woman with a pleasant motherly 
face. 

During the whole of the night poor Calanthe, 
tortured by a feverish unrest, had paced to 
and fro in her own chamber, her whole being, 
heart and brain, filled with the image of the 
man she loved. Where was he now ? What 
news had met him in the city ? Again and 
again old Damocles^ words recurred to her 
mind: Such an action cannot for the good of 
the State go unpunished.’^ What action? Of 
what had Damon been guilty? Pythias had 
said also that Damon was a prisoner and likely 
to be condemned to death. If Damon was in 


CALANTHE. 


193 


danger, would not Pythias, with his impet- 
uous nature and his love for his friend, seek to 
share it ? A thousand horrible visions started 
up before her eyes. Why had she not followed 
him ? Any reality was better than this horri- 
ble suspense. 

At last, toward morning, heavy eyed and 
worn out with anxiety, she flung herself down 
on her couch and sank into that deep sleep 
which exhausted nature demanded and would 
not be refused. 

The sun was high in the heavens when she 
awoke. As consciousness returned to her, and 
with it the leaden weight that had been op- 
pressing her heart, she sprang to her feet, de- 
termined to end the intolerable uncertainty. 

After hastily bathing her face, she sought 
out her nurse, Arria, and ordered her to ac- 
company her to the city. Arria, who had been 
Calanthe^s attendant ever since she was an in- 
fant, was devoted to her young mistress and 
would have followed wherever she commanded. 

Not one word did Calanthe speak as she 
hurried along the road to the gate surmounted 
by the images of Castor and Pollux. Her tor- 
turing anxiety would have choked any at- 
tempt at utterance; and Arria, who was no 
longer young, found it all she could do to 
keep up with her mistress without attempting 
to enter into conversation. 

The road from the farm to the city walls 


194 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


was but little frequented, and they met no one 
until Marcus appeared riding slowly along. 

As Calanthe recognized the approaching 
horseman, she uttered a little cry of terror and 
caught at Arria’s arm as if for protection. 

Marcus ! ’’ she faltered, in dismay. 

The good nurse, who knew all the circum- 
stances of the abduction, placed herself in 
front of Calanthe, ready to do personal battle, 
if needs be, in defence of her foster-child. 

As Marcus came abreast of the two women, 
who had paused by the roadside to let him 
pass, he stopped his horse, and, bending for- 
ward, said, with an unpleasant smile : “ So, we 
meet again, my fugitive bird ! Did we only — ” 

But Calanthe waited to hear no more. Still 
grasping Arria’s arm, she pulled the nurse 
along with her in her efforts to escape from 
that hated presence and voice. 

But Marcus turned his horse and rode close 
beside them. 

'' Nay, pretty flutterer,” he said, mockingly, 
I would not harm you, nor would you be so 
eager to avoid me, did you know the news I 
have to tell you. News with which the city 
is ringing. News of Pythias.” 

Instantly Calanthe stopped, and raised her 
eyes to the face of the speaker. News of 
Pythias ! Immediately all fear vanished, and 
she thought only of ascertaining at once the 
truth. 


CALANTHE. 


195 


'' Pythias ! What of him ? 

Ah, you are willing enough to listen to 
me now,’’ said Marcus, checking his horse 
close beside her. What of Pythias ? To-day, 
he is alive. To-morrow — ” 

With a desperate effort at self-control, al- 
though her heart was fainting within her, 
Calanthe besought him to tell her the truth. 

As a cat plays with a mouse before giving 
it its death blow, Marcus delayed answering, 
enjoying to the full the agony his victim was 
evidently suffering. 

Tell . you the truth,” he said at last. 
“ Who can know to-day what the outcome of 
it all will be? But the man who lays his 
head upon the block must needs expect the 
axe to fall. Pythias is now a prisoner in the 
citadel.” 

A prisoner ! ” 

'‘Yes, a prisoner and like to lose his head 
to-morrow.” 

For one instant, horse, rider, land, sky, all 
swam in a mist before Calanthe’s eyes. As in 
a dream, she seemed to hear the next words : 

" To permit Damon to visit his wife and 
child, Pythias has taken his place, but if the 
Pythagorean knave does not return by noon 
to-morrow, Pythias will die. And — Damon 
will not return ! ” 

Like a crushed lily, Calanthe lay in Arria’s 
arms. 


196 - A TRUE KNIGHT. 

Farewell ! said Marcus, turning his horse 
again away from the city. “ Pythias is 
doomed ! Damon will not return ! 

And he rode slowly away, chuckling to 
himself at the thought of the suffering it had 
been his good fortune to administer to this girl 
who had scorned him. 

Calanthe opened her eyes. 

‘^Pythias is doomed! Damon will not re- 
turn 1 ’’ she repeated in scarcely audible tones. 

Then, with a cry, as the full realization of 
it dawned upon her, she wrenched herself 
from Arria’s arms. Pythias was in peril of 
his life, and she stood idle there I This was 
no time for unavailing grief. Let that come 
later. Now was the time to act. The color 
returned to her cheeks, the light to her eyes. 
She was no longer the timid girl, but a 
woman, bold and resolute, to dare, to do, to 
die for the man who was the god of her exist- 
ence. 

In an instant her resolution was taken. 
Damon — Damon must be seen at once, before 
his departure. But where to find him. He 
must have gone first to his villa to obtain a 
horse for his journey. To the villa, then, she 
would go, and the gods grant that she be not 
too late. 

^^Arria,” she said, firmly — there was no 
trembling now — Arria, I must go at once to 
Damon^s villa. It is useless for you to accom- 


calajsTthe. 


197 


pany me further. Eeturn home, and do not 
let my father be anxious concerning me. Tell 
him, if you like, where I have gone.’^ 

Without waiting for the nurse’s protesta- 
tions she turned and sped along, vanishing 
through the arched gateway before poor Arria 
had recovered from her astonishment. 

With fleet foot Calanthe hurried along up 
toward Neapolis. The streets of the lower 
city were filled with people, and as she made 
her way through the crowds she caught enough 
of their conversation to know that Marcus 
had spoken the truth. Once she was recog- 
nized by a group of girl acquaintances who 
would have stopped her, but with an imperi- 
ous gesture she waved them aside and passed 
on. 

They looked after her in amazement, min- 
gled with pity, for they knew that she was the 
betrothed of Pythias. 

On, on she went, through the magnificent, 
palace-lined streets of Neapolis, until she 
reached the open country. Then up the 
grassy hillsides, through the vineyards, across 
the flower-bedecked stretch of meadow, and 
there before her were the white walls of her 
destination. 

No, she was not too late ; for there in front 
of the portico, stamping his foot and shaking 
impatiently his proud head, was Mercury, the 
black steed that was his master’s favorite. Da- 
mon had not yet started. 


198 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Her feet scarce touching the ground, Calan- 
the flew over the intervening space. 

Damon was standing in the doorway giving 
some last instructions to the steward of his 
household. Already he had delayed longer 
than he wished. As he caught sight of Ca- 
lanthe an expression of irritation crossed the 
noble face, worn and wan with the strain he 
had undergone and was still undergoing. 

''You, Calanthe!” he ejaculated. "You 
here 

" Yes, Damon,” she panted, breathless with 
excitement and her rapid ascent of the hills. 
"Yes, Damon, I am here, and, thank the 
gods, in time to prevent your departure.” 

" What mean you, Calanthe? Speak quickly. 
The hours are precious.” 

" Is what they tell me true ?” 

Damon made an impatient gesture. 

"At any other time, Calanthe, your voice 
would have power to stay me, but now I must 
depart on the instant ; not one moment have 
I for argument or explanation.” 

" You shall not go !” she cried impetuously, 
stretching out her arms as if that frail obstacle 
could bar his way. "You shall not go! 
Answer me I Is it true that you have allowed 
Pythias to pledge his life for your safe return?” 

Damon hesitated a moment. 

"Yes, it is true,” he said at last. "It is 
better I should tell my wife myself that I am 


CALANTHE. 


199 


doomed to die than that another should 
inform her of my death.” 

“ Your death I” cried Calanthe, frantically. 

It will not be your death she will be informed 
of, but that of Pythias who will die for you.” 

Damon's anger was rising. He was in no 
mood to listen to words like this. 

And do you believe I would betray him ?” 
he said, coldly. 

‘^Believe? I know not what I believe. I 
give no thought of belief There is a possi- 
bility that you will remain and let him die in 
your stead.” 

Damon, without a word, made a movement 
to pass her, but, nerved by desperation, she 
threw her arms about him and clung to him 
with the energy of despair. 

You shall not go!” she shrieked. ‘^You 
shall not go ! Save Pythias I Save him I” 

Unloose me, girl I” exclaimed Damon, his 
patience well nigh exhausted. ^^You know 
not what you say. Pythias will be safe 1 Un- 
loose me, I say.” 

No 1 No I Hermione will cling to you 
like this, and you will not force her to release 
her hold. Her pleadings will overcome you. 
You will remain, and Pythias will be mur- 
dered I ” 

Damon felt that this was no time for false 
delicacy. He pitied the girl in her distraught 
condition, but strong, even brutal measures 


200 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


were essential in a case like this. Seizing her 
wrists, he wrenched himself from her embrace 
and flung her from him. 

“ Mercy, Damon ! ” she wailed. “ Mercy ! ” 

5ut it was too late. He had thrown him- 
self upon his horse, and the clatter of Mer- 
cury's hoofs already resounded upon the ave- 
nue. 

With set lips and hands so tightly clenched 
that the nails pierced the palms and drew 
blood, Calanthe gazed after the fast disappear- 
ing horse and rider. 

As they vanished around a curve in the 
road, she drew a long, shivering breath, and 
her eyes wandered feverishly from earth to 
sky, from sky to earth, as if seeking aid she 
knew not where. Suddenly they rested upon 
the gilded roof of Dionysius' palace, which 
glittered in the sunshine far below her. The 
strained look left her face and she started for- 
ward a step or two. Dionysius ! In his 
hands and his alone rested the fate of her 
lover. Why had she not thought of him be- 
fore? She remembered the gentle courtesy 
of his voice and manner, when, through his 
instrumentality, she had been rescued from 
the clutches of Marcus. Surely he would not 
prove deaf to her appeal. But, how could 
she reach his ear ? If she went to his palace, 
would an audience be granted to her? There 
was no one she knew who could obtain the 


CALANTHE. 


201 


interview she desired. No one! Yes, one! 
Damocles could do so, if he would, and Dam- 
ocles, by carrying Damon's message, had 
shown himself not ill-disposed to Pj^hias. 
At all events, she could but meet with a re- 
buff. 

She knew where Damocles lived, in a little 
house in one of the side streets of Neapolis. 
She had been there once with her father. She 
had taken many a step already that morning, 
but her brain was too excited to think of 
fatigue as she started off to descend the hill 
again. 

Unfortunately, Damocles was not at home, 
and she wandered for more than an hour about 
the streets of Neapolis, stopping every now 
and then to ask the slave who sat in the court- 
yard if his master had yet returned. It was 
close to sunset, when, to her joy, she perceived 
the old man passing through the narrow arch- 
way that led to the interior of his house. 
Quickening her steps, she overtook him and 
plucked him by the sleeve. 

The old man turned in surprise, a surprise 
that was deepened as he recognized Calanthe. 

What are you doing here?" he asked, al- 
most roughly. Alone and unprotected, the 
city, even this quiet part, is no place for you. 
You should be at home in your father's house. 
Come, I will conduct you there." 

She raised her eyes, heavy with the anguish 
that was consuming her. 


202 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Nay, good Damocles,’' she pleaded, speak 
not thus angrily to me. I have come to ask 
a favor of you.” 

'‘A favor?” 

Take me to Dionysius.” 

To the king? ” 

“ Yes, and obtain for me an audience with 
him.” 

The old man was silent. There was no 
need for him to ask the reason of this request. 
He guessed it at once. 

Do not refuse me, good Damocles. Do 
not refuse me ! ” 

You are mad, girl,” was the gruff response.' 
‘‘ Your supplications will affect nothing.” 

‘‘ Let me but try! Grant my request, and 
I will bless you forever.” 

Still Damocles hesitated. He could not help 
but pity the girl, but he was confident that no 
efforts of hers, or any one’s else for that mat- 
ter, could effect anything. 

‘"Well,” he said, after a pause, a pause 
which seemed an eternity for Calanthe, I 
will do what I can, but be prepared for disap- 
pointment.” 

I am prepared for all.” 

“ Dionysius sups to-night with Creon. I 
will take you to his palace. You can conceal 
yourself near the entrance and make your ap- 
peal as he goes out. It would be useless to ask 
him to grant you an interview, for I am con- 


CALANTHE. 203 

fident that it would be refused. You can ob- 
tain what you desire only by strategy.” 

I care not how, so long as I succeed.” 

Come then with me.” 

It was not far to the palace. Damocles was 
well known to the guards at the gate, and he 
was allowed to pass with his companion. They 
crossed the garden and entered the vestibule, 
a beautiful apartment whose roof was sup- 
ported by exquisitely carved pillars. Between 
each pillar was a statute of some god or hero. 

Here you can remain until the king ap- 
pears,” said Damocles. I will retire to the 
garden until Dionysius has departed. You 
will find me there. Quick, behind this pillar, 
before any one surprises us. Be cautious.” 

Calanthe obeyed, and in a moment was con- 
cealed behind the broad base of one of the col- 
umns. She heard Damocles' footfalls resound 
upon the mosaic pavement, and then all was 
silent. She was alone. 

Alone save for the cold still white figures 
that surrounded her. Just opposite was a Di- 
ana, the arrow of whose drawn bow was 
directed exactly at Calanthe's heart, as she 
crouched down upon her knees. Involun- 
tarily a prayer rose to the girl's lips, a prayer 
that the chaste goddess would pierce her bosom 
with the weapon, were her suit to prove fruit- 
less and Pythias to die. Pure though thou 
^rt, oh great goddess,” she murmured, “thou 


204 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


hast suffered the pangs of love. Remember 
Endymion.’’ . 

And then, shocked at her own audacity, 
she turned away her eyes from the proud, 
calm face of the huntress, and listened, scarcely 
daring to breathe, for the approach of the king, 
the arbiter of her destiny. 

She had not long to wait. Before many 
minutes, a painted arras near the further end 
of the vestibule was raised, and preceded by 
the bearers of his litter and followed by a body-, 
guard of slaves, the king advanced slowly 
down the hall. As he came abreast of the 
pillar behind which she was concealed, Calan- 
the sprang forth, and, throwing herself at his 
feet, seized the embroidered hem of his robe. 
She raised to his her lovely face, with its great 
pitious eyes and crowned with the superb mas- 
ses of her golden hair. 

'' A boon, my king ! A boon 

Dionysius, startled at first by the sudden 
apparition, then recognized the petitioner. 
Hers indeed was a face, once seen, never to be 
forgotten. He rememberod the one time that 
he had seen it, and he formed a shrewd guess 
as to the nature of the errand of the girl who 
still knelt at his feet and clutched his garment. 
He knew that he would be forced to refuse her, 
but it was one of Dionysius' virtues to be ever 
gentle and courteous to women. No deep love 
could ever touch his heart, in which ambition 


CALANTHE. 


205 


sat enthroned without a rival, but he rever- 
enced all that was pure and lovely in woman- 
hood. Harsh he could be, cruel and unyield- 
ing as the grave, when his own interests were 
at stake, but he was never needlessly unkind. 

“ Rise,’' he said. 

Calanthe obeyed, and, trembling in every 
limb, she stood, with clasped hands, before the 
absolute master of Pythias’ fate. 

“Be not afraid,” said Dionysius, gently, 
“ you are Calanthe, are you not? ” 

Reassured by the tone of his voice, Calanthe 
recovered somewhat her self-possession. 

“ Yes, I am Calanthe, the promised bride of 
Pythias, and, oh Dionysius, listen to my 
plea.” 

Dionysius turned to the slaves and ordered 
them to await his coming in the garden. 

When his commands had been obeyed and 
they were alone he said to Calanthe : 

“ Speak now. What would you ask of me?” 

“ Life and freedom for Pythias ! You once 
saved me. Now save him who is more, far 
more to me, than myself And may the gods 
prosper you, oh king, until you are second 
only to themselves.” 

“Do you love him so deeply then?” 

“ Love him ! He is my life, my soul, my 
all ! If you kill him you take not one life 
but two !” 

“ But he is only a pledge. It is his friend 
who is condemned to death,” 


206 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


But he will die should Damon not return.’' 

“Do you believe, then, that Damon will 
not return to ransom him?” asked Dionysius 
earnestly. 

“When Pythias is in danger I fear all, I 
have no faith in any one. Have mercy, Dio- 
nysius, have mercy !” 

“ You ask me for Pythias’ life,” said Dio- 
nysius, slowly. 

“Yes, yes,” cried Calanthe, eagerly, hope 
shining in her eyes. “ Oh, what can I say to 
touch jmur heart ? If the gods would give me 
eloquence ! Think ! You can give happi- 
ness ! It is in your power, and the great Zeus 
himself can do no more. Hear me ! Hear 
me ! Mercy ! Mercy ! Mercy !” 

“ It is in my power, yes, but — ” 

“ There are no buts ! There can be no buts! 
Save him ! Save him !” 

“Your demand is sudden, and involves 
grave consequences. You must give me time 
for reflection. Remain here. In flve minutes 
you shall have your answer. Speak no more 1 
Further words are useless, but — be not too 
hopeful !” 

Leaving her Dionysius paced slowly up and 
down the vestibule lost in deep thought, while 
Calanthe watched his every movement, her 
whole soul in her eyes. 

Dionysius was in a quandary. He really 
did feel a most sincere pity for the beautiful 


CALANTHE. 


207 


girl, who had been separated from her lover, 
and in such a cruel way so soon after her 
betrothal. Moreover, Pythias' action had been 
a source of wonder to him, and had even 
compelled his admiration. But, nevertheless, 
he was a little incredulous. Was not the 
young soldier already regretting what perhaps 
a momentary impulse had led him to do ? If 
Pythias remained staunch and Damon re- 
turned, it would be the most marvellous thing 
that had ever come within his notice. Dio- 
nysius felt vaguely that if such friendship 
existed there was a something in the world of 
which he had hitherto been ignorant, a some- 
thing which made mere power and wealth 
seem poor indeed. He wished to understand 
it better. Pythias interested him strangely, 
and he was not accustomed to be influenced by 
personal feeling. He would like to see him 
and talk to him, tempt him if need be, and 
watch the result. Why not? There was 
nothing to prevent his doing so, and here was 
the opportunity at hand. 

He returned to Calanthe's side and said : 

There is one way by which Pythias can be 
saved." 

The girl did not speak, but with her hands 
clasped tightly over her bosom she listened 
eagerly for the next words. 

“But it depends more on you than on 
myself," 


208 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


On me ! If it depends on me he is saved, 
even should it cost me my life !’^ 

“Listen then. In three hours’ time be in 
the citadel square at Arethusa’s fountain. 
There you will be joined by a man who will 
show you this,” and he pointed to a heavy 
medallion ring he wore on his left hand, “and 
will say to you, ' for Pythias.’ Do you under- 
stand ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ This man will tell you what you must do. 
Trust him entirely.” 

He paused a moment and then continued : 

“That is all. The matter will be largely 
in your OAvn hands. I do not ask nor do I 
care to know how you obtained entrance here, 
but you can doubtless depart in the same way. 
I leave you now, and, as it is better that 
we should not be seen together, remain here a 
few minutes. Be punctual, and farewell.” 

She tried to stammer some words of thanks, 
but her emotion choked her. In another mo- 
ment she was alone. 

Involuntarily her eyes sought the statue of 
Diana. The point of the arrow seemed to be 
lowered and was no longer pointed at her 
heart, and upon the pale face of the crescent- 
crowned goddess was a strange, wistful smile. 


CHAPTER XII. 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 

T he citadel of Ortygia was situated at the 
extreme end of the island, overlooking 
the great harbor. It fronted on a broad 
square, in the centre of which played the 
fountain of Arethusa, sacred to that nymph 
and famous for its sweet waters. On either 
side were narrow alleys, and at the back was 
the sea-shore. There were no windows in the 
outer walls, which gave the building a grim, 
repulsive appearance. All the light was ob- 
tained from an inner court. 

High up on the side which looked toward 
the sea was a sort of terrace with stone floors 
and high battlements, beyond which was a 
sheer descent of some fifty feet to the sands 
below. Upon this terrace were built half a 
dozen cells of solid masonry with doors formed 
of heavy bars of iron. In one of these cells 
Pythias had been placed. The others were 
vacant. 

It was evening. The sun had long since set, 
and the waters of the interior sea shimmered 


809 


210 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


and sparkled where the pale goddess of the 
night 

Opened wide, across the tide. 

Her silver fan.^^ 

The narrow river, Anapus, wound its way 
like a gleaming ribbon amidst the marshes. 
All was still save for the monotonous swish of 
the waves. Now and then some bark would 
loom up, its sails and cordage clearly defined 
against the full disk of the moon, and then 
vanish, like a phantom, into the darkness 
beyond. 

But the peace and beauty of the scene 
brought no comfort to the disconsolate soul of 
the solitary prisoner, who leaned wearily 
against the bars of his cell, his feverish brow 
pressed close to the cold iron. 

What hope could the future have in store 
for him ? Two alternatives stared him in the 
face, and each more horrible than the other. 
Should any accident keep Damon his own 
head would pay the penalty, and life would go 
out just when it had the most to offer him, 
when the love he had longed for and despaired 
of had come to him in all its fullness. On 
the other hand Damon’s return meant the vio- 
lent death of his friend, the being who with 
Calanthe had all the love of his heart, the 
other half of himself. 

Not for one instant did Pythias doubt 
Damon. He was secure of his friend’s truth 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 


211 


and honor. Still some unconquerable obstacle 
might detain him, and, had it not been for 
Calanthe, he would have prayed the gods 
to raise up that obstacle, and he would have 
rejoiced in dying to save the life of one so 
dear to him. 

Calanthe ! As her fair face rose before him 
he groaned aloud, and with a desperate, 
hunted look raised his eyes to the clear 
heavens where was said to be that Olympus in 
which the gods dwell. Were they all dead 
that none of them deigned to cast a pitying 
eye upon him and come to his rescue ? 

As he leaned there thus Avrapped in gloomy 
thoughts he was startled by the sound of foot- 
steps upon the stone stairs that led from below 
to the terrace, and in another moment two 
figures emerged from the narrow opening and 
approached his cell. As they came near 
enough for him to distinguish them in the 
moonlight he saw that one of them was Belos, 
his former comrade-in-arms, but now his jailer. 
The other he had never seen before. He was 
a tall old man, with a long white beard which 
grew high up on his cheeks, nearly to his eyes. 
If it had been daylight Pythias might have 
marvelled at the clearness and brilliancy of 
those eyes; they were not the eyes of an old 
man. 

The stranger was dressed in a long, loose 
robe of coarse, brown cloth, and he wore upon 


212 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


his head a sort of turban of the same material. 
In the belt which confined his robe at the 
waist gleamed the hilt of a dagger. 

Belos unfastened the door of the cell. 

You can come forth,” he said to Pythias. 

There is one here who wishes to speak to 
you.” 

Pythias obeyed willingly enough. It was 
better to be beneath the free arch of heaven 
than to be cooped up in a stone cage. 

His hands were still bound behind him, as 
when he left the market-place. 

Unloose his bonds,” said the old man, 
quietly, but in a tone of authority. 

Pythias glanced up inquiringly. There was 
something in the voice that seemed not alto- 
gether unfamiliar to him, but he had certainly 
never seen this white-bearded patriarch before. 

Belos hesitated to obey the command, and 
was apparently about to protest, but the old 
man checked him. 

''Unloose his bonds,” he repeated; and then 
he added in a voice too low for Pythias to hear, 
" I am armed.” 

This time Belos hastened to do as he was 
ordered, and, as the fetters fell off, Pythias 
stretched out his cramped arms and could not 
but rejoice in his freedom from the irksome 
bonds. 

Belos, with marked deference, whispered a 
few words to the old man, who replied by a 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 


218 


shake of the head. Leaving the door of the 
cell open Belos then retired and disappeared 
below. 

Pythias and his strange visitor were left 
alone. 

Dionysius — for the apparent old man was 
no other than the king — could not but 
admire the splendid specimen of manhood 
before him. He vaguely recalled having 
heard Philistius, under whom -Pythias had 
served, speak of the young man’s bravery in 
battle. 

Friendship and honor had been hitherto to 
Dionysius mere words, high sounding, but 
meaning nothing. He believed in men only 
when they were under his own eye or when it 
was for their interest to be faithful. Should 
he find this young soldier true to his friend 
and loyal to his word, he would be forced 
to confess that the estimate he had formed of 
humanity was not without a fiaw. He could 
not explain to himself the interest he took in 
Pythias and the curiosity he felt as to whether 
he would maintain his act of sacrifice un- 
daunted and unshaken to the end. It was 
doubly astonishing to him that when he had 
just reached the summit of his ambition, and 
there were a thousand subjects which should 
have absorbed his attention, he found himself 
engaged in testing this obscure soldier’s hon- 
esty. 


214 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


An hour before, to the surprise of his host 
and the other guests, he had hurriedly with- 
drawn from the banquet. After assuming the 
disguise he had ordered prepared for him he 
proceeded on foot and unattended to the cita- 
del square, where, at Arethusa’s fountain, he 
found Calanthe waiting for him. Without 
revealing his identity he exhibited the ring 
and uttered the words, For Pythias.'’ Then 
ensued a somewhat lengthy conversation, in 
which he instructed the girl as to the part she 
would have to play to obtain her lover's safety, 
and told her the means by which he would be 
enabled to escape. 

He then took her to the entrance of the 
citadel, and exhibiting the ring to the officer 
of the guard he sent for Belos, who was for 
the time being in command, and when the 
latter arrived he said a few words to him in a 
low tone, and then Calanthe found herself 
following the two men up the winding stone 
steps that led to the top of the citadel. When 
they reached a narrow platform just below the 
terrace Dionysius ordered her to remain there 
until he should give her the signal to ascend. 

In an agony of mingled hope and appre- 
hension Calanthe leaned against the wall, her 
eyes fixed upon the opening above, through 
which Dionysius and his companion had al- 
ready disappeared. 

After Belos had left Dionysius and Pythias 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 


215 


alone together the latter was the first to 
speak. 

“ Who are you?” he said, glancing curiously 
at the venerable looking figure before him, 
and what is your errand with me?” 

I am a friend.” 

^‘Friends are rare to a man in my condi- 
tion.” 

My errand is important, and my message 
is one of hope.” 

Of hope?” 

I have come to serve and succour you.” 

“ Once more, who are you, and how can you 
succour me?” 

am attached to the king^s household, 
occupying a high position in the palace. I 
have learned by accident that Dionysius has 
resolved that you shall die.” 

Proceed.” 

He has dispatched twenty armed men to 
intercept Damon and prevent his coming to 
ransom you.” 

^‘Ye gods! Can such treacherous cruelty 
be I” 

“I am telling you the truth, and, as you 
know, should your friend not arrive at the 
appointed time your life is forfeited.” 

My poor Damon I” said Pythias, after a 
pause, his voice trembling in spite of himself, 
we are destined, then, to face the Unknown 
together. I had hoped that one of us might 


216 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


have been spared for Hermione^s or Calanthe^s 
sake. Oh ! that it might have been me alone. 
What is my life worth in comparison to 
yours?’" 

These words were not addressed to his com- 
panion, but were spoken as if unconscious of 
the other’s presence. 

Pythias,” said Dionysius, I have come to 
save you.” 

“ What do you mean ?” exclaimed Pythias, 
starting. 

“ Listen ! I pity deeply such noble friends 
who have been so betrayed, and besides, I am 
anxious to leave the — the tyrants’ court. I 
know Belos and have bribed my way here. 
We can escape together. Do you see yonder 
bark with its sails all spread? I have pro- 
vided it to take us where we please.” 

“ Escape ! And my word is pledged to 
remain here till Damon returns, or — Escape 
and be dishonored ! No, old man, you mean 
well, and I thank you for your kindness, but 
go I cannot.” 

Dionysius eyed him narrowly. He was 
evidently in earnest. His reply had been 
spoken quietly but firmly, and there was a 
look of determination upon his face. 

But, man, you must go,” insisted Dionysius, 
'‘Have you forgotten that, if you remain 
here, to-morrow’s noonday sun will witness 
your death ?” 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 


217 


I have forgotten nothing/’ was the calm 
response. To-morrow my life will end.” 

And you are young, with the world before 
you.” 

worthy life should be reckoned by 
deeds, not years. They only have lived long 
who have lived virtuously. Better death with 
honor than a life dishonored.” 

For a moment there was silence. Dionysius 
felt that no eloquence, no persuasion that he 
might employ would induce this resolute 
young man to seek safety in flight ; but there 
was another whose pleadings would be more 
powerful. 

He stamped twice loudly upon the stone 
floor. Pythias paid no attention ; he took for 
a mark of impatience what was really a signal. 

‘^You are a disciple of Pythagoras,” said 
Dionysius. “ Are these the maxims of your 
school?” 

'‘The maxims of my school and the teach- 
ings of my heart,” replied Pythias, proudly. 
“ Cease to urge me, old man. Your words are 
vain. I will not break my plighted word.” 

"Not so fast! Here is one whose gentle 
voice may induce you to change your views.” 

Pythias glanced in the direction indicated 
by the old man’s gesture, and there, advancing 
slowly toward him, was the woman he so 
madly adored. Was it reality or an hallucina- 
tion of his disordered senses ? 


218 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


But even as he gazed in bewilderment, she 
quickened her footsteps, she flew toward him, 
she threw her soft, white arms about his neck 
as if she would never unloose her hold, and 
laying her golden head upon his breast she 
sobbed out : 

“ Pythias ! My Pythias 

No, it was no vision, but warm flesh and 
blood. He strained her convulsively to him, 
showering passionate kisses upon her hair, her 
eyes, her lips and murmuring broken words of 
endearment. 

For a moment, all was forgotten save the 
heaven of being in one another’s arms. 

Dionysius looked curiously on and concealed 
by the white beard was a cynical smile. Love, 
worthy to be dignified by that name, had never 
yet entered his heart and never would. The 
devotion, in which self sinks to nothingness, 
was a sealed book to him, 

Calanthe,” murmured Pythias, “ my own 
Calanthe, are we indeed once more together, 
thus heart to heart?” 

She raised her head. 

Together, Pythias, never more to part, if 
you so will.” 

If I so will ! Hear her, ye gods !” 

'' You consent, then !” she cried joyfully. 

And we will fly to make a home in some 
new land, never to be separated again. Oh, 
copie, come, do not delay,” 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 


219 


A dark shade gathered in Pythias^ ^yes, the 
lines grew firm about his mouth, and, releas- 
ing Calanthe, he turned angrily toward Dion- 
ysius : 

“This is some trick of yours, old man,” he 
said angrily, “ to tempt me to my shame. 

But Calanthe caught his arm. 

“ No ! No !” she cried, imploringly, her eyes 
anxiously seeking his face. “ It is no trick. 
Listen ! Listen, Pythias, and do not look so 
stern.” 

His eyes rested again upon the lovely face 
upturned to his, and his expression softened. 

“ That is better,” she said, with a sigh of re- 
lief. “ You do not understand, my Pythias. 
I am sure you do not understand. Let me tell 
you.” And, without waiting for a reply, she 
went on, speaking very fast and eagerly. “ I 
went to Dionysius, I, myself He is not the 
tyrant you think him. He listened to me. He 
was kind to me. And it was he who sent this 
old man to meet me at Arethusa^s fountain. 
It is he who gives you the chance to escape, 
Pythias, the chance to escape. You will not 
refuse.” 

“ Do you not know, Calanthe,” came the 
slow, grave response, “ that I stand here the 
surety for my friend ? I — ” 

“ Oh ! hush ! hush !” she cried, frantically. 
“ Friend ! Who ? Damon ! He is false ! He 
is a murderer ! He will not come! No, no, I 


220 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


meant not that ! Forgive me, Pythias ! He is 
your friend, yes, he is your friend ! And I ? 
Is love to have no place 
Calanthe 

“ Ah ! have mercy, Pythias ! I love you ! I 
love you ! I love you ! Do you not hear ? Let 
us fly, and I will be to you what never woman 
was to man before. There is the ship ready 
to bear us away. Love and freedom wait us. 
Come ! Come 

Involuntarily, Pythias glanced to where the 
bark sat, curtseying upon the waves. With a 
white hand, she seemed to beckon to him. He 
shuddered, and made a gesture as if to thrust 
away the temptation. 

No he cried. ‘‘No ! I will not go ! By 
all the gods, I will not cheat my honor 

“ Pythias !’^ 

The agony of the cry struck to his very 
heart. 

“ Nay, nay, Calanthe, be strong, my girl. It 
is not I who will have to die. Damon will 
come.’’ 

“ Damon will not come!” 

Cold and distinct came the words from the 
bearded lips of him who, to all appearances, 
had been a calm spectator of the preceding 
scene. 

As if moved by a steel spring, Calanthe 
turned toward him. 

“ What say you ?” 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 221 

“ Damon will not come !” was the response, 
which sounded as inexorable as fate. Dio- 
nysius has dispatched a band of men to inter- 
cept him and prevent his coming. Pythias' 
life will pay the forfeit." 

Pythias raised his clenched fist and strode 
angrily forward. 

“Cease your prating, bird of ill omen, or — " 

But Calanthe sprang between them. 

“ No ! No ! He is our one friend, our only 
hope. Wait ! Wait ! Damon will not come ! 
Did you not hear? Damon will not come !" 

“This man has already told me so, but I 
believe him not." 

“ I do believe him !" and her voice rose to a 
shriek. “I feel, I know that he speaks the 
truth. Damon cannot come to be your ran- 
som, and you, oh gods, have pity, will die." 

Pythias was silent. It was with the utmost 
difficulty that he could control himself. The 
frenzied words of this girl whom he so dearly 
loved were like so many arrows in his heart. 

“ Pythias ! Pythias !" she moaned. “ Speak 
to me ! You are cruel ! Would you murder 
me, for murder it will be. I shall not survive 
you ! If you have ceased to love me, at least 
have pity, have mercy!" 

Pythias’ face was fixed and rigid, and his 
voice came very low and hoarse as he an- 
swered. 

“ Cease to love you, you, the goddess of my 


222 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


existence ! It is not love, but adoration ; and 
yet, my Calanthe, did I know that the grave 
to-morrow would yawn for us both, I would 
prefer the certainty of death for me, and — 
and — for you to the possibility of dishonor !” 

As Dionysius heard these words he mar- 
velled more and more. What manner of man 
was this who held his honor so high that 
nothing could tempt him to tarnish it? But 
wait ! It was impossible that he could hold 
out to the end. 

‘‘No, you love me not!’^ came Calanthe^s 
wailing accents. “ If you loved me you — oh, 
are you stone, Pythias, are you stone 

Pythias stood silent and motionless. His 
arms were folded, and his eyes were fixed far 
out upon the sea. He did not dare to trust 
himself to give her either word or look. 

Dionysius advanced a step or two. 

“ Look,” he said, quietly, “ the ship has her 
signal out, and a boat is putting off. It is now 
— now or never.” 

Calanthe extended her arms to Pythias. 
Her face was white as death in the moonlight, 
and there was a world of agonized, despairing 
entreaty in her glowing eyes. 

“Pythias! Pythias I Pythias I Save your- 
self ! Save me 1 Come 1 Come 1” 

For a moment there was silence, a silence 
that could almost be felt, and then Pythias, 
without turning his head, answered in dull, 
passionless tones: 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 


223 


I have answered. I will not go.” 

As the words fell upon her ears like the 
clods of earth upon a coffin, Calanthe, with 
her arms still extended, stood for an instant as 
if frozen into marble. 

Then her arms fell to her side, and suddenly 
the whole expression of her face changed. 
Her eyes gleamed like those of a tiger-cat and 
her features became distorted with a horrible 
mirth. She laughed aloud. A low, chuck- 
ling, ghastly laugh that chilled the blood of 
her hearers. 

She spoke, and who would have recognized 
in those harsh, broken accents the sweet, sil- 
very tones of the girl who confessed her love 
in the grove of olives. 

I have answered. I will not go.^^ And 
again the hideous laugh rang out. “ The cer- 
tainty of death, say you. So be it ! You de- 
mand my life, and you shall have it! My 
blood be upon your head 1” 

As she spoke, with a rapid motion, she 
plucked from Dionysius’ belt the dagger which 
he wore, and held it aloft in the air, the steel 
flashing with a sinister gleam in the moon- 
light. 

Horrified, Pythias sprang forward, and, 
catching her arm before it could descend, he 
wrested the weapon from her grasp. 

Like a mad woman she struggled with him, 
attempting to regain possession of the dagger. 


224 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


When she found all her efforts futile, she flung 
herself down at his feet, clutching at his gar- 
ments in a frenzy of supplication. 

Her golden hair fell in tangled masses about 
her shoulders, and in the beautiful purple eyes 
was a glitter as terrible as that of insanity. 

Pythias !’^ she wailed. “ Hear me ! Pythias, 
I love you ! I cannot live without you ! See ! 
I am at your feet, imploring no longer your 
life, but my death ! You have the dagger ! 
Kill me ! I love you ! Kill me ! You have 
commanded and I obey ! You wish my blood ? 
Take my blood, take my soul, and I shall suffer 
less than I suffer now. Kill me ! There is my 
heart ! Strike there ! I love you ! Strike !” 

It seemed to Pythias that an iron hand was 
grasping his heart and crushing out its beat- 
ing. A convulsive sob shook his whole frame. 

With a sweeping gesture he hurled the dag- 
ger from him, far over the battlements. Then 
he stooped, and, raising Calanthe, caught her 
fiercely to his breast. 

Die, my Calanthe !” he cried, passionately, 
his cheeks aflame, his eyes like coals of fire. 

Die! Never I No, my Calanthe, death shall 
claim neither you nor me! Who gives me 
right to quench your life in mine? You have 
conquered 1 I yield ! Ere see you perish, I’ll 
burst all ties of duty, renounce all honor, dare 
all shame ! There is no past, no present, noth- 
ing but the future, a glorious future, some sun- 


LOYAL UNTO DEATH. 


225 


kissed isle, with you and me together, forever 
together. Come, my Calanthe ! My joy in- 
carnate, my self of self, my life, my soul, my 
wife, come ! Come 

In exultant joy, and with face transfigured as 
one who when the depths of hell yawned be- 
fore him sees appear angels to hear him to 
Paradise, she clung to him. He made a quick 
gesture to Dionysius to follow them, and half 
carrying, half dragging her, he directed his 
way to the head of the staircase. 

As his foot was placed upon the first step to 
descend, there smote upon his ear a low laugh, 
a mocking, cynical laugh. He stopped short. 
The face of Damon seemed to rise before him, 
stern, reproachful, and upon the lips hovered 
the word, Traitor 

The mists fied from before his eyes. He saw 
the action he was about to commit in its true 
light. 

Flinging Calanthe almost violently from 
him, he cried hoarsely : 

Away, temptress, away ! I will not yield ! 
My honor is my own.’' 

Then rushing across the terrace, as if pur- 
sued by fiends, he dashed into his cell. 

The heavy barred door clashed harshly be- 
hind him. 

Calanthe staggered forward a few steps, and 
then sight and sense failed her. With a wild 
shriek she fell into Dionysius’ arms, cold, 
senseless, inanimate. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


TEMPTATION. 

U PON the sea-shore, in the shadow of lofty 
^tna, wandered in the twilight a youth 
and a maiden. The dream of their young 
lives had become a reality ; the days of their 
enslavement had passed forever; they were 
together and free, free to love one another, 
with none to say them nay. 

And yet upon their happiness to-night rested 
a cloud, vague, indistinct, but none the less a 
shadow, which brought with it a sense of gloom. 

That afternoon Damon had appeared at the 
old stone house in Catania, where, in accord- 
ance with his commands, his wife and child, 
attended by Daphne and Lucullus, had taken 
refuge. 

At first, Hermione^s joy at seeing her hus- 
band alone, safe and well, had been intense, 
but it was a joy that was soon changed to the 
most poignant suffering. 

“ Hermione,^’ said Damon, when they were 
alone together, nerving himself for what he 
knew must be told, and at once, ^'Hermione, 


TEMPTATION. 


227 


have I ever given you an angry look or word, 
since it pleased the gods to give you to me as 
a treasured wife?” 

‘‘Never! Never!” replied Hermione, earn- 
estly, wondering what these words could be a 
prelude to. 

“ I am glad to hear this, Hermione, for 
when I am dead you will remember it, and it 
will make you all the kinder a mother to our 
boy.” 

“ Dead ! Why speak of death? Damon, you 
are pale, your lips are quivering. Are you ill?” 

Damon paused a moment, and then, taking 
his wife^s hands in his, he said : 

“ Hermione, should I tell you now the heav- 
iest news that could salute your ear, how would 
you bear it ?” 

“ Laugh at it, so long as you and I were 
spared to one another. But what is this heavy 
news ? Ah ! it has to do with your friend, 
Pythias, since you are safe.” 

* “ No, not that exactly.” 

“ What is it then ? Why keep me in sus- 
pense?” 

“ Hermione,” and the voice was very gentle, 
very tender, “ Hermione, when I married you, 
it was not your rare beauty of face and form 
that most attracted me, but it was the beauty 
of your soul. I said to myself : ‘ Here is a 

woman, who if calamity came, would not rend 
my heart with weak repinings, but would 


228 A TRUE KNIGHT. 

support it bravely. Would bear firmly 
though death itself — ’ ” 

‘‘ Death ! Death ! not to you, Damon 
To me, Hermione. Be brave ! I have been 
condemned to death by Dionysius.’^ 

Hermione gazed at him wildly, not under- 
standing the purport of his words. 

‘^But/’ she stammered, her cheeks blanched 
and her hands trembling, you are here, you 
have escaped and are free to take refuge in 
some other country — Greece, Italy, or where 
you please.’’ 

I must return to Syracuse.” 

“No! No!” 

“ Ere this I should have been but lifeless 
clay, had not Pythias given himself as a host- 
age, and thus persuaded Dionysius to allow 
me to come here to bid farewell to you.” 

Hermione staggered and would have fallen 
had not Damon caught her. But she was not 
like Calanthe, a love-lorn maiden, whose 
whole existence was bound up in the life of 
her lover. Hermione was made of sterner 
stuff, of the stuff befitting the mothers and 
wives of heroes. 

Forcing herself to be calm, she said : 

“ Will you then leave your wife and child 
without a protector ? You shall not return, 
Damon, you shall not return.” 

“ Do you understand that, if by to-morrow 
noon I am not at the citadel, Pythias dies? ” 


TEMPTATION. 


229 


Let him die, then ! ’’ her grief obtaining 
again the mastery. His life is not worth 
yours. 

‘‘ Such words are unworthy of a soul like 
yours. Two paths are open to me. The one 
through death to honor — ’’ 

Damon ! 

There are hut two. If I choose the noble 
one, by my last act I fitly end a life I would 
bequeath to you spotless.’^ 

Bequeath ! That word has horror in it. 
But the other — the other path ? ” 

It leads to life through shame. Would 
you have me take it, to lower my eyes before 
every honest man, to own a broth ership only 
with cowards ? 

^^The future will dispel such thoughts. 
Time brings relief. 

There would be no future for me, no relief 
from a crime like mine. I would grow to 
shun all human beings, to hate the sight of 
your dear face, for when I strained you to my 
breast, I would see mirrored in your eyes the 
image of a traitor.” 

“ Hush, Damon, hush ! ” 

Speak! Shall I fly?” 

With a superhuman effort she forced herself 
to say : 

No I Die, rather I ” 

Damon’s eyes sought her face with a look 
of passionate pride. 


230 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


“ My wife ! my Hermione ! That is spoken 
like the woman I have ever believed you to 
be, like the woman you are. Now, we are 
one forever ! 

Would that the Fates might recognize 
that to be the truth, sobbed the poor wife, 
breaking down utterly, ^^that we might die 
together.’^ 

Of all this, of course. Daphne and Lucullus 
knew nothing. Damon told no one, save his 
wife, of his impending doom, but upon the 
faces of their beloved master and mistress the 
ex-slaves saw the imprint of a great sorrow, 
and their hearts were heavy, as they strolled 
upon the sands after the evening meal, which 
had scarce been touched. 

It was a deserted spot. The nearest house 
was a long distance away, and strange visitors 
were rare. Lucullus was therefore surprised 
to observe a man descending the path which 
led down the cliffs. The stranger was heavily 
built, and his passage was evidently a difficult 
one, for his progress was slow, and he kept 
catching at the bushes to keep himself from 
slipping. 

Lucullus called Daphne’s attention to him, 
but no sooner did the girl’s eyes rest upon the 
face of the man, who was now near the bot- 
tom of the cliffs, than she uttered a cry of 
wonder and dismay and clutched nervously 
at her companion’s arm. 


TEMPTATION. 


231 


Look, Lucullus,'' she said, in a voice 
scarce above a whisper. ‘‘ Do you not recog- 
nize him ? It is — yes, it is the Lord Marcus.” 

'' By Pollux, Daphne, you are right! What 
brings him to Catania ? ” 

Daphne shook her head, unable to offer any 
conjecture ; but they were not long to be left 
in ignorance, for Marcus, having finished his 
descent, came hurrying toward them as fast as 
his bulky person and breathless condition 
would permit. 

Open-mouthed in amazement, they awaited 
his approach. 

‘^Ah ! I was not miskaken,” panted Mar- 
cus, as he came up to them, it is my doughty 
champion of the arena, and, by all the gods, 
the prize he so bravely won I This is a most 
fortunate encounter.” 

The revengeful plotter had been carried 
well that day by his noble gray steed, and had 
reached his destination even earlier than Da- 
mon. He had ridden on to a little caravan- 
sary on the other side of ^tna, and there put 
up his horse. He had been unable to form 
any plan by which he could prevent Damon’s 
return to Syracuse on the morrow, and he 
wandered along the cliff to see what chance 
might throw in his way, with his senses on 
the alert in order not to be observed. 

After he had proceeded some little distance 
from the inn, he espied on the sands below 


232 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


him the youthful pair of lovers, and his keen 
eyes at once recognized them both. 

By the gods, I have it ! he cried aloud, 
exultantly. A little skill, and Pythias, my 
friend, your doom is sealed.'’ 

Turning about, he retraced his steps, pro- 
ceeding in the same direction as Lucullus and 
Daphne, until he came to the path, which 
wound down to the shore, and then descended 
as we have seen. 

Lucullus was so astounded at the sudden ap- 
parition of the noble Syracusan in this unex- 
pected place, that he could only gaze at him 
in speechless amazement, while poor little 
Daphne, whom Marcus had always affected 
with a strong feeling of repulsion, stood trem- 
bling at his side. 

By Hercules," continued Marcus, puffing 
and mopping his brow, ‘Hhat is no easy path 
to follow. Lucullus, the fates have been kind 
to permit me to come across you. I have jour- 
neyed from Syracuse especially to see you." 

‘‘ I am at my lord's service," stammered Lu- 
cullus, more and more surprised. 

Marcus sat down on a broad rock that rose 
in the middle of the beach. He had quite 
made up his mind now how to proceed. 

'' In the first place," he began, '' tell me, and 
remember that I mean you well : Is your mas- 
ter now in Catania?" 

Lucullus hesitated a moment and then re- 
plied in the affirmative. 


TEMPTATION. 


233 


So I supposed/’ replied Marcus. And then, 
with a sharp glance at the lad from his little 
ferret-like eyes, he said abruptly : ‘'Lucullus, 
your master is in great danger, and you alone 
can save him.” 

The boy started. 

In danger ! Damon, my good lord, in dan- 
ger !” he cried. 

Yes, and it remains with you to rescue 
him !” 

'' I will give my life’s blood for him !” 

So we knew. I say we, for I come to you 
on the part of the king.” 

‘‘The king?” 

“Yes, Dionysius, to whose kindness you 
owe the possession of this pretty maid.” 

“What can Dionysius wish of a poor servant 
like me? ” 

“ Lucullus, you are intelligent and can un- 
derstand what I have to say to you. Your 
master has rebelled against the State and for 
that crime been condemned to death.” 

“ Condemned to death,” echoed Lucullus, 
while Daphne uttered a cry of horror. 

“Yes, condemned to death ! The king, al- 
though inclined to clemency, cannot exercise 
it publicly. I come as his representative to 
see that Damon does not return to Syracuse. 
He received a reprieve until to-morrow noon.” 

“ But why need he return ?” 

“ He has given his word.” 


234 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Lucullus reflected a moment, and then he 
said slowly: 

And my lord must be told of this, and — 

Marcus started. 

‘‘ No ! No he said, hurriedly. '‘That would 
be to ruin all. On no account must a word be 
said to Damon. Can he but be kept back from 
Syracuse until to-morrow night, a way will be 
found to pardon him. The king has promised. 
Through you and you alone can he be kept 
here.’^ 

" I have said I will die for him, if needs be.^’ 

"There is no necessity for that. But a death 
is essential.’’ 

" A death !” The cry of fear was simulta- 
neous from Lucullus and Daphne. 

" Oh, be not alarmed,” laughed Marcus. “ I 
ask you to murder neither man nor woman. 
But, if Damon had no horse, he could not re- 
turn to Syracuse.” 

" I, I do not understand.” 

" Kill his horse.” 

" Kill, kill Mercury ! Should I do that, my 
master would slay me.” 

" You need not seek his presence.” 

" Kill Mercury ! I cannot.” 

" Is a horse’s life worth more than Damon’s ? 
Remember, it is to save him you do it. Tush, 
boy, your hesitation is childish.” 

Lucullus was silent, his troubled gaze di- 
rected across the rippling expanse of waters. 


TEMPTATION. 


235 


At last he turned toward Marcus, who had 
never taken his eyes from the lad’s speaking 
face. 

“I will do it,” he said slowly, “ to save his 
life.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 


DESPERATION. 

‘Y UCULLUS! LucullusT^ 

I J The call rang forth, sharp and strained, 
in tones far different from Damon^s usual deep, 
calm accents. 

Lucullus !'’ 

From the direction of the stable the lad 
appeared, his white face looking ghastly in the 
searching light of the early morning. He 
was trembling so that as he advanced his gait 
was almost that of a drunken man. 

“Where is my horse demanded Damon 
with angry impatience. “ Did I not tell you 
last night to have him ready promptly at sun- 
rise? Bring him at once without further 
delay.” 

Lucullus essayed to speak, but his quivering 
lips and the lump in his throat refused him 
utterance. 

Damon noticed his emotion, and the thought 
flashed through his brain that probably the 
boy had heard in some way of the doom that 
was hanging over his master’s head. He was 


DESPERATION. 


237 


in no mood, however, to listen to either plaint 
or prayer. The trying parting with Hermione 
had taxed his powers of endurance to the 
uttermost. The poor woman's fortitude had 
entirely given way at the last, and he had left 
her in a state of unconsciousness, attended by 
the weeping Daphne. 

No folly, boy," he cried, sternly. ‘‘ My 
horse I say, my horse !" 

^^My lord — " faltered Lucullus, his heart 
dying within him at the thought of the news 
he was forced to tell. 

‘‘Why, slave," exclaimed Damon, beside 
himself with impatience, “do you not hear 
me ? Bring the horse. Time flies, and I am 
late as it is." 

Lucullus threw himself prostrate in the 
dust at Damon’s feet. 

“ My gtoerous master," he wailed, “ do not 
kill me." 

“Are you mad? What means this mum- 
mery ?" 

“Ah, my lord," pleaded Lucullus, raising 
his haggard eyes to Damon’s face. “ You have 
ever been good to me. Be merciful now. I 
know the peril that you are in, and, when I 
saw a chance of giving life and liberty to 
you, I—” 

“ Go on !" commanded Damon, with a great 
effort holding himself in check. “ I listen ! 
Speak!" 


238 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Hoping to save you I — I slew your 
horse !’ 

A hoarse cry burst from Damon's lips. 

“ Forgive me, master, forgive me !” 

'' Forgive !" and the word was a shriek of 
rage. Forgive ! My horse is slain, and you, 
you live ! But your punishment shall be my 
care !" 

As he spoke he seized the boy and shook 
him violently to and fro as a dog would shake 
a rat. 

‘‘ Spare me !" murmured Lucullus in a chok- 
ing voice. “ Have mercy, good master, have 
mercy. I meant it for the best." 

“ For the best !" echoed Damon, fiercely, his 
hands tightening about the boy's throat. For 
the best! Slave, what right have you to 
judge? Pythias! Pythias! You are killed, 
and I am your murderer. I can hear his 
cries now: ^ Damon ! Damon ! false friend ! 
perjurer! where are you? I die because I 
trusted you.' But fear not, my Pythias, you 
shall be revenged !" 

Still holding the wretched lad by the throat 
and dragging him along, he started at a head- 
long pace for the road and the white cliffs 
beyond. 

Damon’s condition was little better than 
insanity. His horse killed, there was no way 
of returning to Syracuse in time. He was 
disgraced, dishonored forever. He could not 


DESPERATION. 


239 


save the life of that friend who had offered all 
for him. But vengeance was possible, and 
this miserable slave, who had dared commit so 
dastardly an act, should die. He would hurl 
him from the cliff, and with one swing send 
him to suffer for his crime in the torments of 
Tartarus. 

Across the field he strode, bearing with him 
Lucullus, who was almost senseless with terror 
and the pain of the terrible grip upon his 
neck. 

The road was reached, and the cliff with its 
precipitous, rocky descent to the sands below. 
In another moment Lucullus^ life would have 
paid the penalty of his fault, when suddenly 
there rang out upon the still morning air the 
sharp metallic sound of a horse’s hoof. 

Damon paused and looked eagerly in the 
direction of the noise. Around a turn in the 
road, not thirty feet away, appeared a rider 
mounted upon a superb gray horse. 

Ha ! There was one chance yet ! That steed 
must be his, his at all costs, his to fly to Syra- 
cuse, to redeem his promise and give freedom 
to Pythias. Forgetful now of his intended 
vengeance, he released Lucullus, and the poor 
boy with a gasp sank half fainting amidst the 
bushes which grew on the edge of the cliff. 

With a bound Damon sprang into the road. 
The horse and its rider were now close upon 
him. 


240 A TRUE KNIGHT. 

‘‘ Halt ! ’’ he cried, in a voice of thunder. 

Involuntarily, the horseman drew rein. 

Dismount ! commanded Damon. 

The other, at this imperious order, at- 
tempted to urge his horse forward, but Da- 
mon seized the bridle. 

Dismount, or I will tear you from your 
saddle!’’ 

This time, Marcus, for it was he, clumsily 
obeyed. 

It is doubtful if Damon, in his excitement, 
recognized the former president of the Senate. 
His one thought was to obtain possession of 
the horse. 

Pushing Marcus roughly aside, he leaped 
upon the animal’s back. A word in the 
gray’s ear and they were off, leaving Marcus 
in the middle of the dusty road, grinding his 
teeth in impotent rage. 

Onward, brave steed 1 Now, if ever, put 
forth your best endeavours I Onward I Upon 
your fleetness depends life or death, truth or 
falsehood, honor or dishonor ! 


CHAPTER XV. 


BY THE king’s COMMAND. 

I T is close upon the hour when the sun is 
midway in its course, the hour when, 
should Damon fail to return, Pythias must 
yield up his life in his friend’s stead. Once 
more is the scaffold prepared, once more is 
the gruesome figure of the executioner at its 
post. But, this time, not the open square, but 
the courtyard of the citadel is to be the stage 
for the enactment of the tragedy. 

The spectators who have obtained admit- 
tance are few, numbering, outside of the 
guard of soldiers, a score at the most. But 
through the bars of the heavy gates can be 
seen a countless throng, eager to know who is 
to be the victim, and if Damon, unrestrained 
and free to act as he pleases, will return to 
keep his word, redeem the man who has 
pledged his body for him, and bend his neck 
beneath the axe of the executioner. 

The suspense will not be long-lived now, 
for a bare quarter of an hour yet remains be- 
fore the appointed time will have come. 


242 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


No sign yet of Damon. Wagers, at enor- 
mous odds, are now freely offered against his 
appearance, but the takers are few. 

Suddenly there is a movement, a con- 
fused murmur amongst those nearest the 
gates of the citadel, and the rumor quickly 
spreads that the prisoner has been brought 
into the courtyard. The young soldier’s 
figure is erect, his step steady and his face 
calm and composed as he advances, guarded 
in front and rear, toward the sombre platform 
of his doom. 

All at once he felt the light touch of a hand 
upon his arm, and, turning with a start, he 
saw close at his side the mysterious old man 
who had visited him upon the terrace the 
night before. 

Before a word could be spoken, one of the 
soldiers caught the old man by the shoulder 
and would have thrust him back, had not 
Belos, with a look of affright upon his face, 
hurriedly intervened. 

Stand back ! ” he commanded. Stand 
back, all of you, and let this man speak to 
the prisoner.” 

The guard fell back a few paces, and Pythias 
and the disguised ruler of his destiny were 
left alone. 

The heavy eyes of the young man rested 
wearily upon the bearded face of his compan- 
ion. 


BY THE KING S COMMAND. 


243 


‘‘What would you with me now?” he 
asked, in cold, monotonous tones. “ Why 
disturb the last moments of a man about to 
die? Last night, you — ” He paused, sud- 
denly, as the heartrending incidents of the 
previous night flashed back upon his memory. 
His whole expression changed, and his voice 
was eager and pleading, as he said : 

“ Tell me, tell me, I beseech you, of her. 
What has become of her? Is she in safety? ” 

“ Calanthe? Have no fear. She is safe 
under watchful eyes and in the hands of those 
who will care tenderly for her.” 

“ This is true? You are not deceiving me ? 
No ! No ! You would not deceive me at such 
a time as this.” 

“ I am not deceiving you. I swear to you 
that what I have told you is the truth.” 

“ The gods be praised ! Old man, I know 
not who you are, nor the secret of the strange 
power you apparently possess. But — protect 
her, if you can, and bear to her, if you will, 
my last message.” 

“ Speak !” 

Pythias paused a moment, and then he 
said, his voice trembling with an emotion it 
was beyond his power to control : 

“Crave her pardon for my roughness of 
last night. Tell her that honor called, and I, 
perforce, obeyed its summons. Tell her to be 
brave. Tell her to live, live as best she may, 


244 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


hard though it may be, until the day when 
the fates decree that she come to meet me in 
those bright fields of Elysium, where I shall 
be waiting for her. Tell her that she has 
been the one love of my life. Tell her, tell 
her that I loved her to the last.’^ 

As the words died away, it seemed to 
Pythias that his name was breathed in tender, 
•yearning accents, no louder than the soft mur- 
mur of a summer’s breeze amidst the meadow 
grass. He started and turned hastily, almost 
expecting to find Calanthe at his elbow. But 
there was no one there. 

Dionysius made a slight, warning gesture 
toward a small, closed door which was just 
behind them, and then said hurriedly: 

I will deliver your message. It was folly 
for you to refuse to escape when it was in 
your power to do so. Your friend is less loyal 
than you. You see he is false. He has not 
come.” 

'' False! ” echoed Pythias, uprearing his 
handsome head and with a flash in his dark 
eyes. ‘'False! Never! It is you, old man, 
who are false, when you dare utter such a 
word.” 

" It wants but a few minutes of the ap- 
pointed time and yet he does not cOme.” 

“ He does not come, because he is no god, 
but a man who can not command the ele- 
ments, a man who is ruled by circumstances. 


BY THE king’s COMMAND. 245 

Who knows what may have happened? He 
may be stricken by illness ; some accident 
may have happened. Who can tell ? He is 
not false. He, who does all he can to keep a 
promise does not break it, even though he 
fail in the exact fulfillment of it.” 

“ Even if it be so, you must die for his fail- 
ure.” 

^‘And I glory in dying for a man like 
him. The tyrant demands a life. Let him 
take mine, and I thank the immortal gods 
that my death ransoms Damon.” 

But — ” 

Argue no more, old man, your words are 
but mere words, idle, empty, meaningless. 
Your ignorance can not persuade my knowl- 
edge. I hnow that Damon is not false, but 
true as truth itself With my last breath, I 
trust and love him. ” 

Dionysius stood motionless for a moment, 
his eyes fixed with a strange expression upon 
the animated face of the young man before 
him. Then, without a word, he turned and 
walked slowly away. 

As if this were a signal, Belos advanced 
with his soldiers and motioned Pythias to pro- 
ceed to the scaffold. At the same moment, 
through a door which led to an inner room of 
the citadel, came Philistius, followed by Dam- 
ocles, Hermocrates and one or two others of 
the king’s council. They took their position 
exactly opposite the scaffold. 


246 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Pythias had mounted the steps, and stood 
facing them. 

“Pythias/^ said Philistius. ^^The noon 
hour is here, and Damon has not come. Your 
life is forfeit. Have you aught to say? ” 

I am ready,’^ was the clear, calm response. 
'' Executioner, do your duty, and let one blow 
suffice.'’ 

Dionysius made a movement toward the 
scaffold, but immediately checked himself, as 
from the further edge of the crowd outside 
there came to his ears a muffled shout. All 
eyes were turned toward the ponderous gates. 
Through the opening between the iron bars 
the multitude was seen to part, shrinking 
back on either side, and along the avenue thus 
formed dashed at full speed a gray horse, 
covered with foam. 

“ Damon! Damon! Damon! ” went up the 
cry from thousands of throats. 

“ Damon! Damon ! ” the distant hills re- 
echoed. 

On, on came the horse, nearer and nearer, 
until the gates were reached. Leaping from 
the back of the good gray, which had borne 
him so nobly along the weary miles between 
Catania and Syracuse, Damon flung himself 
against the heavy gates. 

Open ! Open ! ” he thundered, shaking the 
bars until they rattled. “ In the name of the 
immortal Jove, open! ” 


BY THE king's COMMAND. 247 

At a sign from Philistius, Belos hurried 
forward and undid the fastenings. The gates 
flew open and Damon staggered in, pale as 
ashes and covered with dust. 

As he raised his eyes and saw Pythias 
standing above him, alive and unharmed, he 
burst into an hysterical fit of almost maniacal 
laughter. 

Undeterred by those about him, Pythias 
leaped down the steps, and in another mo- 
ment the two friends were folded in one an- 
other's arms. 

''Alive! Alive!" gasped Damon. "The 
gods be praised, alive! I hold him to my 
heart." 

" Would that my death could have saved 
you! " faltered Pythias. 

Damon released himself, and turning toward 
Philistius, said with simple dignity : 

" The hour has come and the man is here. 
Lead me to the block." 

" No! " cried Pythias, vehemently. " No! 
Not you, but I must die. The hour is past, 
no fault of yours I know, my Damon. But, 
if you came not by noon, I was to take your 
place. My life shall pay the penalty." 

"Not so. It is no justice that for another's 
fault the innocent should suffer. Hear not 
this foolish boy, Philistius. Mine was the 
crime, if love of country be a crime, and my 
blood alone can appease Dionysius." 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


;248 

! Before Philistius could speak, a dark-robed 
' figure strode forward. White hair and false 
beard were torn off and flung aside, and to the 
amazement of all save Belos, Dionysius, the 
king stood revealed. 

'' Hold he exclaimed, with flushed cheeks, 
and his heart beating high with an emotion 
which until that moment had been foreign to 
him. 

Hold ! No blood shall flow! No penalty 
shall be paid. Listen all! I, Dionysius, ty- 
rant though I be, do here give Damon back 
his life and freedom! 

Then, advancing to where the two friends 
stood, dazed at this unexpected turn of events, 
he took a hand of each. 

You have taught me a lesson,’^ he said, 
earnestly, all his better nature coming to the 
fore. ‘‘ A lesson which will have its affects 
upon all my life. If the Pythagorean school 
developes such men as you, I beg to be ad- 
mitted as one of your brotherhood.^’ 

Although, trembling at the shock of this 
sudden revulsion from despair to joy, Damon 
forced himself to be calm, and answered 
quietly, but with an undercurrent of deep 
emotion : 

‘‘ I thank you, Dionysius, not only for my- 
self, but in the name of my wife and child. 
Our brotherhood is open to all who can meet 
its requirements and will practice its teachings. 


BY THE king’s COMMAND. 249 

For my part, if Syracuse is governed according 
to the rules of our master, I am content.” 

Pythias, more impulsive and demonstrative 
than his friend, raised the king’s hand to his 
lips. 

May the gods shower you with their 
choicest blessings for this act,” he faltered, 
brokenly. 

Dionysius smiled 

You stood your trial bravely,” he said. 

crave your pardon for the deception I 
practiced upon you, but in that way I dis- 
covered your worth. Even had Damon not 
come, your life would have been spared. 
Here is one who can testify to that. Calanthe! 
Calanthe! Come forth! ” 

A small door at one end of the courtyard 
opened, and Calanthe appeared, her lovely 
eyes shining like twin sapphires. 

Another moment Pythias was imprisoned 
in the soft embrace of a pair of snowy arms, 
and the woman he adored lay sobbing upon 
his breast. 

Our story is almost done. The stormy sea 
is a thing of the past, and the barks are safely 
moored in the smooth waters of the harbor. 

Calm, peaceful uneventful days are of in- 
terest only to those who live them. It has 
been said that happy nations have no history, 
and that is equally true of happy people. 


250 


A TRUE KNIGHT. 


Dionysius, his ambition satisfied, proved an 
excellent ruler. His power, as he himself de- 
clared, was “ fastened by chains of adamant.” 
Under him, Syracuse grew greatly in popula- 
tion, grandeur and beauty, and became the 
one great Hellenic city of Sicily, prosperous at 
home and unmolested by the barbarian. 

Marcus escaped the degradation of being re- 
moved from his position in the council, for a 
few weeks after his fruitless expedition to 
Catania, the sensualist and glutton died of 
apoplexy, the result of a prolonged drinking 
bout. 

In spite of the honors Dionysius would 
gladly have heaped upon him, Damon could 
not find it in his heart to remain in Syracuse. 
He was too irrevocably opposed to an aristoc- 
racy in his native city to be happy beneath 
one, however just and kindly it might be. 
He, therefore, removed to Athens, where, 
abandoning almost entirely public affairs, he 
found his happiness in a domestic life and in 
an exhaustive study of Pythagorean philos- 
ophy. Pythias, wedded to Calanthe, accom- 
panied him, and, joining the Athenian army, 
won for himself a distinguished position. 
With Damon went also Lucullus and Daphne, 
the former forgiven for the mistake which had 
so nearly cost his master his honor. 

There in the lovely Grecian city, Damon 
and Pythias passed many happy years, not 


BY THE KING^S COMMAND. 251 

as two, but one of doubled force, each to the 
other a sure defence. Their noble deeds have 
lived after them, and through succeeding cen- 
tury after century, fame has heralded their 
linked names to an admiring world — true 
hearts, brave souls, friends faithful unto death. 


THE END. 


A. D. HALL’S PRODUCTIONS. 

Adaptations, Translations, Etc. 


La Tosca. 

Fedora. 

Journal of Marie BasHkirtsefif. 

Sardou’s Cleopatra. 

Spirite. 

Criquette. 

Prince Zilah. 

A Parisian Romance. 


A. D. HALL’S PRODUCTIONS. 

Adaptations, Translations, Etc. 


Anselma. 

My Uncle Barbassou. 

Article 722. 

A Marriage for Love. 

The Saracen: A Drama. 

Tbais, 

The Black Sorceress. 
The Danicheffs. 

Lady Clancarty. 







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